


The Bet // A Dramione Fanfiction

by FeralGrace



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 15:03:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 67,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16452161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeralGrace/pseuds/FeralGrace
Summary: Draco Malfoy is very much a changed man. Past prejudice has been wiped away and replaced with total acceptance of everybody, and his former snide remarks soon became harmless sarcastic comments.Hermione Granger changed too, arguably. After the war, she became more famed for her talents and intelligence, and whilst there were a select few disinterested wizards, most people adored her. Apart from Draco, of course.Over time, this changed, and he grew some sort of affection that he’d never actually felt towards a young witch before. There was only one issue - a past enemy had already returned with an irresistible proposition, and these newfound feelings may never be acted upon due to this bet.





	1. Going Back

HERMIONE

One year. Just one year, fifty-two weeks, three hundred and sixty five days. One short, single year was all it took for the walls of Hogwarts to stand tall and stable once more, for each and every magical room to be restored and refurbished, for the castle to be filled with the echoing voices of the somewhat friendly ghosts that haunted the school's halls. Who knew that in just one year's time, the great hall would be full of gleeful, noisy students - some new, some old - who, for one reason or another, would be overwhelmed by the excitement of being stood within those grand castle walls. Who knew that the once destroyed classrooms would be occupied once again by professors and their eager pupils, as if they'd never been empty.

The only reasonable answer was: everybody. Every single wizard and witch in Great Britain knew that Hogwarts was in the process of being rebuilt since day 1; in fact, most of them had contributed a large amount of money to the school. Almost all of the magical folk who knew of the building were practically desperate to see it back to its original condition, for there was little happiness in the Scottish Highlands without the presence of the students milling around Hogsmeade on most weekends. Especially since the battle that had taken place just a few months before; a battle which had, unfortunately, resulted in many lives lost. The atmosphere was still tense in both Scotland and its neighboring countries, for nobody knew what else lurked around the corner. Many towns and areas had been used for occasional death eater meetings, so the wizarding part of the country gave off a bad vibe altogether.

The people, however, had given up on tending to the wounds of the past, and were focusing on allowing their scars to fade away in their own time. They tried to live out their lives as normal, but they knew that normal was hardly even a thing anymore. Witches and wizards had stopped jumping at the mention of particular names, and they could stroll through the streets more freely now, without screaming in fear when a nearby door opened either too quickly or too slowly. Despite all of this, however, memories of what the world used to be like were still a heavy weight that people had to carry around with them on their shoulders. It was worse for some people - just the smallest things were a constant reminder of the blood spilled and the bones broken in the courtyard that night.

I was, perhaps, having one of the most difficult times of all, though I rarely showed it. And, if I did, nobody was there to see it. Especially since I'd spent that one year in Australia, searching for my parents. It'd been a long and exhausting task, but eventually, I'd found them living in a small but cosy home in Queensland. As the ministry had already developed a spell to retrieve a person's memories, the process was quite simple - the aftermath, however, was not. I wasn't sure that I'd ever greet another person so tearfully again.

To my dismay, however, there was little time available to be spent on catching up with my family. The rumors that Hogwarts was soon to be open again had, over time, become facts. And, me being myself, going back to school for my seventh year was the one thing I looked forward to the most. I'd still be around my parents for a few more days, but after that, they'd be nothing but a few letters per month until Christmas. Mum and Dad were fine with this. They knew how important education was to me, and they refused to stand in the way of my dreams like some indestructible obstacle. So, around half-way through the month of August, they felt like they had no choice but to let me go. And so they did.

As always (and as egotistical as it sounds), the Weasley family seemed absolutely delighted to see me running down their garden path to greet them, and vice versa. I refused to speak about anything else without apologizing profusely for being on the opposite side of the world, when I could've been so much more help there, with them. Molly simply scoffed and shook her head.

"Dear, you deserve to be reunited with your family after everything you've done for us over the past couple of years. It'd be selfish of anybody to keep you from that." The older woman had stated, but the unpleasant sensation that sat in my heart seemed to become heavier at Molly's words. There I was, running off to another continent to spend time with my family, whilst Mrs Weasley was still grieving for one of her own.

"I suppose so." was all I could say, before asking, "How are you holding up? Are you doing okay?" I never once specified what it was I was asking about, but I knew that Molly understood what I meant.

"Yes, yes, I'm doing fine. Arthur, my children, Harry, and now you, are doing so much to help. Of course, the others are still in grief too, but we're working on it." The woman replied with a small yet mildly reassuring smile, and I couldn't help but not believe her. It just wasn't the same without Fred. It never would be, and we all knew it. Just one year wasn't nearly enough time to get over it. In fact, I wasn't sure if anybody ever would.

"That's great to hear." I replied with a warm smile, before deciding that it was probably time to change the subject. "So, have Harry and Ron decided to return to Hogwarts or not? I heard that they were offered positions as aurors, so I assumed that I'd be alone in my decision to go back." I said, a smile painted on my face. If I was to be entirely honest, I'd been hoping for them to join me, as it just wouldn't be the same without the pair of them constantly begging me to either watch them play quidditch or lend them my notes.

"I'm afraid so, Hermione, dear. But they said that whenever they had the time, they'd beg Minerva to allow them to see you for just a little while. Besides, you won't be completely alone. You have Ginny. And those other nice children, Neville and that blonde girl." Molly frowned thoughtfully for a moment, before her face lit up in realization. "Luna! That's it. Ginny, Neville and Luna."

"That's awfully kind of you, Mrs Weasley, and I'll be sure to spend my free time with them. But only Neville is in my classes, and even he tends to speak to Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan only. I'll figure something out. As long as I stay away from all Slytherins, I'll be fine, I'm sure." I rolled my eyes at the mention of my rival house, and Molly chuckled.

"Yes, you be careful of those people. They're true to their mascot; they're all snakes, every single one of them." the witch replied, and gave me no room to answer, for she said immediately afterwards: "Now, don't let me keep you. The boys are waiting. They're rather excited to see you again."

I nodded and turned to enter the burrow, when Molly's hand on my arm caused me to halt and turn to face the woman.

"Be careful with George. He's still not the same. Hasn't left his room in weeks, poor child." She whispered, before letting go and walking back into her home herself. I watched Molly leave and sighed, having recognized the pained tone of her voice. My earlier assumptions were true - she was still hurting.

Still sorry for the woman, I followed her into the oddly-shaped house that I'd grown to love, and considered to be my second home. My first being Hogwarts, as my parents had sold my childhood home before moving across the globe. I didn't mind anymore. They were much more important than a house.

A roar of pain snapped me back to reality, and not 5 seconds later, I heard a slightly muffled "Watch where you're throwing that bloody bludger!" from the mouth of who sounded an awful lot like Ron. Typical. A giggle escaped my lips as I made my way through the house towards the back garden, pausing in the kitchen to glance at the Weasley family's uniquely-made clock. The majority of the hands were pointed to 'HOME' or 'GARDEN', and there were one or two pointing in the direction of 'WORK'. I couldn't help but notice that there was no sign of Fred's hand anywhere, though I did spot a small, jagged piece of metal jutting out of the wood, as if it'd snapped off suddenly - not by force, I thought, but due to old age, or some other magical cause.

Snapping into focus once again, I pushed open the back door and stepped out into the garden, having to duck immediately when a heavy force smashed into the stone wall just a couple of inches above my head.

"Sorry, Mu- oh, Hermione! Guys, Mione's here!" My favourite red-haired girl, Ginny, yelled, before adding, "Well, you almost weren't here. You were nearly bludgeoned to death. Sorry 'bout that, we're playing quidditch, in case you haven't noticed already." She gestured to the two boys swooping through the air on brooms several feet above the ground, rolling her eyes.

"Uh, yeah, I noticed right when I heard somebody hit your brother with a bludger. I replied with a light giggle, and Ginny raised her hand, "Whoops, guilty. But to be fair, he deserved it. He was definitely cheating."

"Who was definitely cheating?" Harry Potter asked as he landed firmly on the ground and leaned over to kiss his girlfriend on the cheek.

"My idiot brother, of course." She replied, pointing discreetly at Ron as he, too, landed beside Harry.

"Who's idiot brother?" He asked Ginny, for which he earned an outburst of laughter. "What?"

"See what I mean?" She asked in a whisper, before replying a little louder, "You, stupid. You're my only brother here. In fact, you're the only brother here full stop. Neither Harry or Hermione have siblings, so who else could it possibly be?"

Ron was at a loss of words, his face slowly turning the same shade of red as his hair. "Oh, alright, you got me. It's usually Hermione playing the role of the smart aleck, not you. What happened?"

The gazes of Ginny and Harry fell on me as I stood awkwardly before them, visibly hurt. "Smart aleck? What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Oh c'mon, 'Mione, I don't mean it like that. It wasn't meant to be offensive. And really, I wasn't expecting you to ask 'what I meant'. I thought you'd inform me what a smart aleck really is and then state that you're not irritating at all, when in all honesty, y-" Ron stopped himself all of a sudden and glanced up at me anxiously, obviously hoping I hadn't noticed. "Er, time for another game of Quidditch?" He asked quickly, trying to change the subject.

"In all honesty I what?" I asked, ignoring his question. To me, compared to what he was suggesting, Quidditch was practically the most irrelevant topic in history. "You think I'm irritating?"

"Oh, leave it be, 'Mione, it was just a joke." The red-haired boy replied tiredly, but I simply scoffed at his reply.

"Just a joke? Well, it wasn't a very funny one." The volume of my voice was rising now, as it tended to do when I got worked up or upset. "Ginny, am I staying with you?"

Speechless, Ginny could do nothing but nod silently, and I answered with, "Fine, okay. And I wouldn't play Quidditch now if I were you, it looks like it's about to rain. Besides -" it was evident that I was speaking directly to Ron now, as I'd turned to face him again, "- I have much better things to do than listening to ridiculous excuses all afternoon." I finished, before turning around and entering the Burrow.

"They're not excuses! C'mon, Hermione, what could possibly be more interesting than spending time with your friends? We did miss you, y'know." Ron called after me, and his last sentence caused me to consider changing my mind. However, it was quite a well-known fact that I was a rather stubborn person, and I wasn't going to allow a few empty words to soften me up.

"At this moment in particular, Ronald, I'd rather be working on some potion with Malfoy, plus his Slytherin goonies, than be so much as looking at you." I muttered, just loudly enough for him to hear, before walking upstairs and into Ginny's room.

I wasn't petty. In fact, I was far from it. Some had even lectured me on being too openly forgiving with people, but I hardly ever minded that, since it usually worked out for the best. But, no, my problem wasn't that he'd called me irritating - if I hated him one percent more every time he called me that, I'd loathe him as much as a full-fledged death eater - but the way we left things after the Battle of Hogwarts.

Our kiss had been intimate, beautiful, sensational, even. The mere second he'd pulled away, I was certain that the force of his lips on mine would linger on my mouth for a good few weeks, if not months. But, as it turned out, it was special to me and me alone. The red-headed boy had declared that it was a 'heat of the moment' sort of thing, and though he apologised, he'd hurt me, and he knew it. And then, I went and said I valued Draco stinking Malfoy's company over his.

Of course, my words were empty, but I just hoped they hurt him as his words had hurt me. Besides, I doubted that Malfoy would return in September anyway. What reason did he have to?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DRACO

Needless to say, upon hearing the news that he had the chance to return to school, I wasn't a very happy person at all. Ever since Voldemort lost the battle and brought shame on our family, my mother had been doing everything in her power to restore our previous grand reputation. Father couldn't have cared less - he'd narrowly escaped a life sentence in Azkaban by, you guessed it, bribing several people in high places at the ministry. The man was satisfied with that, so whether we were paraded through crowds on thrones or hung from a tree whilst crowds of wizards threw food at us, he didn't give a damn.

I, however, gave all the damns in the world. I was proud of my mother for most of her doings, such as giving money to charities - muggle charities - but there were one or two ideas that I didn't agree with at all. Like going back to school. And actually studying hard. And, most importantly, finding a bloody wife.

"Now, Draco, darling, just remember that she doesn't necessarily have to be a pureblood." She'd told me when I'd whined that they were all 'snobby little bitches'. "A nice half-blood will do. Maybe even a muggle-born. If we're not so strict with our pureblood-only rules, perhaps people will begin to think more highly of us once again. In fact, I suppose it's best if your wife-to-be isn't pureblooded. They tend to be the most down-to-earth girls. Unless you'd like to marry somebody like Luna Lovegood, or that Weasley girl."

"I'll have to pass up that offer, mother, but thank you anyway." I replied in a bored tone, sounding nowhere near as appreciative as what I'd claimed to be. "Besides, I hate all non-pureblood girls, and I'm quite sure they hate me too."

"Oh, don't be silly, Draco. How about that nice, older Ravenclaw girl, Cho?"

"She used to date Potter, mother. If he liked her, I'm pretty sure she can't be such a great person. I simply cannot trust his judgement. For god's sake, he's best friends with Weaselbee and Granger." Upon hearing me finish my sentence, the older Malfoy's face lit up, and her smile grew suspiciously wide.

"Hermione Granger! That's a brilliant idea! Why didn't you mention her before! Oh, it'd be wonderful. Deatheater falls in love with war hero - it'll be the headline on the Daily Prophet for weeks! The wizarding world is bound to respect us again." By this point, my jaw had practically dropped to the ground, though my mother obviously failed to notice this. She continued talking, and it wasn't until she mentioned something about 'how beautiful our babies would be' that I finally lost it.

"Mother, I will never so much as touch Hermione Granger, and now you're expecting me to marry her? I'm 18 years old, let me live a little before I even marry anybody at all. Besides, I'm not marrying any mudblood. Ever. Especially not Granger." I held a hand up to my face, almost remembering the pain I'd felt when she punched me. I had to admit, I'd admired her attitude and magical talents ever since that day, but I'd never confess such a thing to anybody else. Never. Not if I was hung upside down from a tree and hugged repeatedly by Voldemort. Because, according to my family, mudbloods aren't worthy of admiration.

It didn't matter anyway, though. I'd forever hate her guts, no matter what happened. If I were ever dangling off some cliff and she was the only one there to offer me a hand, I'd probably refuse it. Simply because I wouldn't want to give her the satisfaction of saving my damn life, and who'd want to touch her filthy hand, anyway? Certainly not me.

Which was why I wasn't looking forward to my 'happy Hogwarts year-long reunion' at all. Granger would undoubtedly be there, unlike most of those in our year, so there was more chance of me running into her and being partnered with her for classes. I vowed to ignore her for the whole year round, and act as though she didn't exist - ignore her because, although I'd been a complete jerk over the past few years, I wanted to at least try to make it up to everybody by not teasing them whatsoever.

These hopes and dreams of mine were shattered, however, when the familiar but almost forgotten sound of tapping on the window brought me to attention. Directing a firm look at Narcissa, which said 'this conversation's over', I rose from my seat and crossed the room in three long strides, pulling open the window. The barn owl perched on the tree branch and dropped a scroll of parchment at my feet, before taking to the skies once again.

A feeling of deja vu overcame me and I reached down to pluck the scroll off the floor, untying the piece of string that had been preventing the parchment from unfolding. I didn't even have to lay eyes on the Hogwarts emblem to know that it was from school - my letter usually came at that exact day of that exact month, and through the very same window. Except, this time, it looked awfully different. It was noticeably longer, and I also noticed that there was an additional list which contained something that didn't quite look like school books. At least, I assumed it was a list. There was a 50% chance that it was just a typical you-have-been-banned-from-use-of-your-wand-in-class-until-further-notice-you-filthy-death-eater kind of letter. I certainly hoped not, as my wand was a part of me, and in the several brief periods of time in which I'd been without it, it'd felt like a dementor had snogged the soul out of me.

Besides, I was trying my hardest to redeem myself. How could I show both the students and the professors at Hogwarts that I'd changed if they didn't give me a chance to show them? They knew I didn't become a death eater by choice. Heck, I'd been praying that Scarhead and his followers would grow a pair of balls and defeat Voldemort before he had the chance to even consider recruiting me for his magical Nazi army. Instead, Dumbledore had to step in and prove himself to be worthy of death at the hands of the Dark Lord himself - indirectly, of course, as Snape and I were the ones doing the plotting and assassinating, respectively.

The mere thought of being a death eater caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up, and sent shivers down my spine. Absently, I tugged my sleeve halfway up my arm and traced along the outline of my dark mark with my finger - without looking. I had spent so much time glaring with fury at the tattoo, so many sleepless nights researching how on earth to dispose of the scar, that I knew exactly where every inch of it was. I supposed that this was a good thing - I'd be able to estimate exactly which shirts would and wouldn't be suitable for wearing in public. True, this wasn't entirely necessary as I would tend to stick to my black suit, which covered every inch of my body aside from my hands and head, but it came in handy for most of Mother's charity events.

I looked down at the additional letter once again, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion. When I glanced up at Mother to see her smirking knowingly, I only became more perplexed. Taking a deep breath - I figured I may have to - I scanned the contents of the letter. Three times, just to be sure. But I was. I, Draco Malfoy, had somehow managed to become head boy.

I simply couldn't help it. A smile tugged at my lips, and I raised my head to look at Mother, a hint of a joyful twinkle in my eye for the first time in... well, as long as I could remember.

"I've done it, mother. I've been made head boy. They actually looked past the dark side of me and focused on my academic achievements, for once!" I grinned, and the older Malfoy woman cleared her throat.

"Well, uh, yes, your grades were certainly a huge help. I'm extremely proud of you, Draco, for managing to stay focused on your classes, even in dark times." My smile faltered, and just as quickly as it had appeared, the twinkle was gone.

"A huge help? What do you mean? The title of a head boy or girl is given to a student just because of their grades. And... behaviour" I added slowly, feeling my pale cheeks beginning to flush in anger, for I had a feeling what my mother was about to admit.

"Well, you see, your father... he wanted what was best for you, and he couldn't be sure that'd happen if he didn't..."

"You payed McGonagall just so I could have a couple of extra privileges, share a common room with some snobbish, stuck up, ugly, rude, smartass Ravenclaw - or worse, Granger, - host one or two parties and do rounds pretty much every night?" I asked a little too calmly, and Narcissa took this as a sign that on the inside, I most certainly wasn't calm at all.

"Dear, we didn't just pay her, although the money was a huge contribution to the reconstruction of the school. We... we persuaded her. Convinced her that it'd be a good idea, that a nice, smart girl like a Ravenclaw or even Hermione Granger could be a good influence on you." Mother reassured, but this simply enraged me even more.

"Mother, if I was to achieve this, I'd want to do it on my own. I don't need father's, or your, money. Do you seriously have so little faith in me that you don't even believe I can do something good on my own, for once?" I scoffed, slamming the letter down on the table.

Narcissa rose from her seat, gasping. "That table has been in this house for centuries longer than you have, learn to respect your elders." She lectured, before seating herself back in the armchair and shaking her head. "Look, Draco, darling, I'm sorry-"

"Yes, so am I. As soon as I step foot on that train in a few days, I'm heading straight for the heads' cabin. But only to tell Prof- well, Headmistress McGonagall that I won't be head boy, thank you very much. Not like this." I practically spat the last sentence before getting up and storming out of the room, slamming the large oak doors so fiercely that half of a bookshelf's contents fell to the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HERMIONE

The puffs of smoke emerging from the funnel of the Hogwarts Express almost shrouded the platform in darkness, for the clouds of steam were somewhat thicker than usual. I had no doubt that at least half of the pupils's faces would be blackened with soot, and that'd cause a bit of a dilemma in the tiny bathrooms on the train. This was why I changed into my robes as soon as I stepped foot into the corridor, for it wasn't like I had anybody to wait for anyway. Harry and Ron were already on another one of those blasted auror missions, so it was impossible for them to even see me off, as selfish as it might sound.

Once I'd changed, I headed towards the front end of the train, where my head girl cabin was located. To be entirely truthful, I was rather excited to meet my fellow Head, though I was also anxious to discover their personality. Were they intelligent, kind, cruel, mischievous, calm, lively? Were they the type of boy who'd treat me as a friend, an equal, or the more common type, who tend to wink and wolf-whistle at me in the street. Not because I was pretty, but probably because of my sudden fame. Probably. I never thought of myself to be particularly beautiful, but I'd received one or two comments which implied so... one or two hundred.

Pulling open the compartment doors, and after scanning the interior, I let out a sigh of disappointment. Empty. Though to be fair, I should've expected it, as I'd finished changing before everybody was even on the train. Glancing out of the window, I saw that it had yet to leave the station. Great - I'd clearly have to wait for some time.

Sitting down, I didn't even flinch when the doors slid open, because they weren't the same doors I'd entered through, so it mustn't be the new head boy. However, I'd been raised with manners, and ignorance was simply rude. Raising my head to see my old transfiguration professor and new headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, I smiled.

"Professor! How was your year? Besides the school being built, of course. I understand that you were quite busy with that." I greeted warmly, to which McGonagall replied with a smile, "It was nice to have a long rest after the...events of the previous year, but it was nothing too special. How about yours?"

"It was rather chaotic. Always travelling from one place to another, with no time alone, and thousands of letters a day. It's exhausting, being 'famous' and all that." I said truthfully, sighing.

"Exhausting? I thought you'd like being recognised for your talents, for a change." The older witch answered, taking a seat opposite me.

"So did I, and then... life happened." I laughed a little - probably the first time I'd laughed since I was last with my parents. After I'd left them, it'd been rare that I actually spent time with other people, and when I did, they weren't in the happiest mood. "So, about being Head Girl..."

"Yes, yes, you're right, down to business." Professor McGonagall agreed with a nod of her head. "So, I assume you're familiar with all of the details and requirements of the position. I know my letter wasn't particularly informative, but-"

"It explains everything in Hogwarts: A History." I bit my lip upon realising that I'd just interrupted her, as I hadn't intended to do so. "Sorry, Professor."

"That's quite alright, dear. And besides, you're absolutely correct. I'm going to have very little explaining to do then, aren't I? Times haven't changed. As soon as you've settled in once again, we'll get to work on handing out timetables to prefects and preparing for the annual Halloween Dance."

"Excuse me? There's no such thing as the annual Halloween dance, right?" I inquired, and, despite my confused state, I was still practically shaking with excitement.

"Well, not before now. You see, myself and the other professors agreed that we should at least attempt to lighten the atmosphere in the school. We suspect that students won't be very cheerful. Why not throw parties and dances and such to help?"

"I completely agree, professor. I think it's a marvellous idea."

"I'm glad you think so. Although, it would be preferred if you keep quiet about it. The staff think it's best to have it be a surprise - perhaps break the news around two weeks before?"

"That sounds fantastic."

"Excellent!" McGonagall beamed, clapping her hands together. "Now, I believe you'll wish to discover the identity of your... 'co-worker', should I say?"

"It would be nice. I've been rather nervous." I confessed, fiddling with the hem of my skirt.

"And with every right to be. I'm afraid that you may not agree with my decision on this matter, but believe me when I say it's for the best."

Now, my worry only grew. If Professor McGonagall had doubts about how the Head Boy and I would interact, it couldn't be good.

"Surely it won't be so bad. Who-" I began, but was cut off by the familiar noise of the compartment doors sliding open.

"Well, well. I should've known you'd be here, Granger. Did Potty and Weaselbee finally realise you're no use to them anymore, or is it the other way round? Although I must say, you're all as irrelevant as each other." a tragically familiar voice drawled from the doorway, and I raised my head to see Malfoy leaning on the frame, not as thin or pallid as before - in fact, he didn't look too bad at all. But of course, I'd never admit to such a thing aloud.

"Students." McGonagall warned us both, but we simply shrugged it off.

"Hello to you too, Malfoy. I never knew ferrets were allowed on the train. Remind me to speak to the driver about that - that is, if the mere sight of you doesn't, of course." I bit back, and the Headmistress simply observed the view out of the window, deciding not to take any notice.

"My, my, finally something that Hermione Granger doesn't know. Melissa Hermann, 6th year Ravenclaw, has one. Crabbe and Goyle attempted to charm her into doing their homework for them a couple of years ago, although needless to say, they didn't get very far." Malfoy explained, pushing off from the doorway and strolling over to me.

"What are you doing here? This is the Heads' cabin." I stated, earning a chuckle from the Slytherin.

"Apparently not so smart. I'm the Head Boy, Granger, I thought I would've made that clear to you by now. Why else would I willingly share a compartment with you?" He asked taking a seat somewhat beside me but as far away as possible.

"How on earth did you- no, I know this one. You payed." I scoffed, glancing at McGonagall in disbelief. Never would I have expected the professor to actually take payment in exchange for education-related things.

"Money was involved, I admit, but..."

McGonagall cut in. "Mr Malfoy's grades are almost immaculate, and it's the perfect opportunity to show that we're willing to put whatever happened during and before the war behind us. I'm sure he knows that if there's trouble, his badge and position will be revoked."

"That won't be necessary. I'd like to pass the position on to somebody else. I hadn't a clue that you were bribed, and I want to feel as if I've really earned it." Malfoy replied, already unpinning his Head Boy badge. "So, in other words, thanks but no thanks."

The older witch was slightly confused, completely ignoring the badge that Malfoy was attempting to hand over. "Mr Malfoy, I do hope you're not under the impression that your father's wealth was the only reason that we gave you such a title. The other professors agreed that you've more than earned it on your own, and the money was just a.... a bonus, I suppose." She waved her hand, as if pushing aside the fact that Lucius Malfoy was involved at all.

"Even so, I still can't help but feel that this doesn't belong to me. Don't get me wrong, professor, I was positively overwhelmed by happiness when I saw it, but I truly don't think I deserve it." To say the least, I was astounded. Why hadn't he just taken the badge, been slightly thankful and gone ahead making everyone's lives a living hell?

"How about we strike a deal?" McGonagall asked after a moment of silence, reaching up to straighten her hat. "I give you a task to do up until... November 1st, and if you succeed, you continue to be the head boy as planned. If not, the badge goes to our second choice."

"Which is?"

"Theodore Nott."

Malfoy's jaw hit the floor. He looked like he was positively aching to kick up a fuss, protest, scream, anything, but he surely knew it would do him no good. If anything, he'd fail before we even stepped foot onto the school grounds. Odd, I thought. I never expected that Slytherins might even be at rivalry with each other.

"Please, no, professor, you don't understand how big of a mistake you're making. Nott is... dear Merlin, he's evil. His father was almost as wicked a death eater as mine, and he supported him wholeheartedly. I've seen him kill. Many people, all innocent, and you could see in his eyes, plain as day, that he didn't feel a hint of regret. Give him another target, and he'd definitely do it again. I saw him again just this August - my mother thought it'd be nice for me to have some 'friendly faces' around - and no matter how much he'll try to convince you that he's changed, believe me, he hasn't. I can see straight through masks - if you're forgetting, I wore one myself for around three years." He finished with a growl, crossing his arms and leaning his head against the wall.

Professor McGonagall remained silent through all of this, just listening, and she left it for a minute or two before finally answering, "Which is why I trust you'll try your best to maintain your position as head boy. We wouldn't want Miss Granger to suffer so badly, now, would we? If what you're saying is true, it's possible that she won't make it to Christmas without having been injured in some way or another."

Sighing, I bit my lip, awaiting a sarcastic comment from Malfoy, so I was understandably amazed when all he replied with was, "Certainly not, Professor. Now, what's my task?"

"Well, I thought you may've worked it out for yourself, I must say. But, I'm afraid, you must find a way to get along with Miss Granger here until the date I gave you. This means no arguing, hexing, cursing, glaring, anything of the sort. At least, in public. I can't exactly control your actions in the heads' tower, but please refrain from murdering each other there too, please. The last thing I want is blood stains splattered on the walls, it raises a great deal of questions when we're inspected each summer."

"You've got to be kidding me. Not even glaring? How am I ever going to manage that for two months? This is absurd, I demand that you reconsider your choice at once. Please." The blonde added as an afterthought, earning a disapproving sigh from me.

"Mr Malfoy, I am not your House Elf. Now, for that, I'll be asking at least four of your professors if the pair of you can be seated together in class. Maybe next time, you'll know better than to speak to your elders in such a disrespectful manner." McGonagall stated firmly, frowning a little.

"Great. I may as well give up my badge right here and now, I won't last very long anyway." He muttered, to which the professor raised an eyebrow.

"Is that another complaint I'm hearing?"

"Certainly not, Professor. I'll try my hardest to pass the test." Malfoy said hurriedly, smiling as convincingly as possible. I almost snorted aloud - he looked rather similar to a growling dog when he grinned. Except dogs probably weren't as vicious at times.

"Excellent!"McGonagall clapped her hands together, before Draco added, "What about Granger?"

"I'm not going to do anything to provoke you, Malfoy, you can trust me on this. The only time I'll even acknowledge your presence is when we do our rounds together, and-"

"Together? You mean I'll be patrolling hallways with you? That's... great. It's cool." He swiftly changed his choice of words after receiving a glare from McGonagall.

"Yeah. Cool." I repeated, biting my lip to hold in a laugh.

"Now, I'll leave you two to sort out the problems you still have, whilst I go and ask the driver how long we have to go. And then perhaps grab a snack off the trolley. It's been a ridiculously long time since I last had those marvellous pumpkin pasties..." The professor's voice drifted away as she left the compartment, sliding the doors shut after herself.

After around five minutes of awkward silence, I cleared my throat. "So..."

"I hope you don't expect me to act like your best friend or something, just because McGonagall said we have to tolerate each other for once. We're not going to sit and braid each other's hair, or talk about boys, or borrow each other's clothes."

"Of course not! Your hair's too short, you're not gay - as far as I know - and your clothes won't fit me. We'll make each other friendship bracelets instead, and write in our secret diaries whilst lying side-by-side on a bed and waving our legs in the air." I retorted teasingly, rolling my eyes. "Don't worry, I still know perfectly well that you despise me. I won't push it."

"Thanks, then, I guess. So... any problems? Apart from the part where I'm me and you're you. That one's still obvious."

"Well, there is a question I've been meaning to ask you."

"If it's about that damned elf, I had nothing to do with it, I swear. I don't even think Bellatrix ever knew he belonged to us, they all look the same anyway."

"Uh, yeah, I know. Pretty sure the last thing on your mind would've been killing your former slave. That's not what I wanted to ask you."

"Oh?" Malfoy asked, raising an eyebrow. "What, then?"

"Are you prejudiced against anybody with muggle blood, anymore? Because y'know, if you are, it's gonna be pretty difficult to get along, and I'd rather it not be so hard." I asked hurriedly, biting my lip in anticipation.

"No, actually, I still hate you all. In fact, I'm currently plotting your murder. Which do you prefer, replace your bedroom floor with lava or pour acid into all of your skin and hair products? I have something much crueller planned for the rest of the filth, but I'm supposed to be nice to you, so I'm afraid you can't join the rest of your population for this one."

"That's not very funny." I pointed out, still nibbling on my bottom lip, so much now that it had begun to bleed.

"Would you stop that? I don't want you to bleed out in your seat, I'll seem responsible and I'll lose my badge. And I was only kidding, I don't really have a problem anymore. I might still call you and others names accidentally, because y'know, old habits die hard, but please remember that I don't mean it. I stopped believing in such nonsense when Voldemort returned, though I never showed it. You stop thinking muggle blood is dirty when so much of it is pooled around your dining hall." His voice lowered as he finished speaking, and he seemed to shudder at the memory.

"Right, yes." I nodded, and after much hesitation, I continued, "And while we're on the subject, I'd like to thank you. For not giving Harry away at the manor that one time. We'd probably be dead if it weren't for that." I managed to get out, and I jumped suddenly when a splash of liquid landed on my hand. Apparently, I hadn't stopped biting my lip after all.

"I told you to stop that." Malfoy hissed, pulling a tissue out of his robe pocket and handing it to me. "And it's fine. I mean, you were still tortured, and you all saved myself and Blaise in the room of requirement when Goyle set the bloody place on fire. I think we're even."

"Definitely." I paused, and smiled a little. "This is easier than I thought. Getting along with you, I mean."

"No, not really. I'm in emotional pain, and I'm trying my hardest to resist the temptation to attack you. That's why you'd better do something about that damned lip, or I might go ahead and suck the rest of the blood outta you."

"Vampire, much? Should've known, you're shockingly pale and you dress like the world's a funeral."

"Vampires are also known to be beautiful creatures, so I'm going to take that as a compliment, before I really do slit your throat or something." He drawled, a smirk playing on his lips.

"What, and risk Theodore Nott gaining your head boy badge? I highly doubt it." I replied with a cheeky grin.

"Please don't, I can't bear to imagine it. Nott can go suck a-"

"Lollipop?" We both turned our heads to see the trolley lady hovering in the doorway, holding out a hand full of sweets. "They change flavour with every lick. They're new, and limited addition."

"No, thanks. I'll have a chocolate frog, though." Malfoy said, pulling a few knuts out of his pocket and handing them over. I shook my head, but smiled thankfully all the same. The woman then left, pushing her trolley along in front of her.

"Anyway, as we were saying..." I began, but it was me who was cut off this time, by a low chuckle that escaped Malfoy's lips. "What's so funny?"

"It's you!" He exclaimed, grinning at me.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Look," He handed me the chocolate frog card, and there, in something that resembled a frame above a small box that read 'Hermione Granger', was a photograph of me that must've been taken on the day of the battle.

Letting out a loud shriek, I swatted the card out of his hand, kicking it across the floor. "What is that?? I look disgusting! Like I've been rolling round in mud for three days straight and didn't stop to sleep or eat or anything. Get rid of it. Get rid of it now or I swear I'll..."

"You swear you'll what, Granger?" He asked, and I remained silent. "That's what I thought. Now, I think I'm going to keep this." Malfoy picked up the card from the floor, tucking it in the back pocket of his school pants. "I don't think you'll want to try and retrieve it, people might see and get a couple of ideas." He wiggled his eyebrows and winked at me jokingly (I hoped). I scoffed, rolling my eyes. 

"As if I'd ever put my hands anywhere near any part of you, Malfoy, other than to give you another punch."

"Now, now, Granger, you have to be nice." He stated, shaking his head and tutting disapprovingly.

"I have to be nice? Right, I don't think so. I'm not provoking you, and that was the only rule that applied to me."

"No, McGonagall said that we must get along with each other, not I must get along with you. This isn't a one-sided relationship." Malfoy reminded me with a smirk, straightening his school tie.

"This isn't a relationship whatsoever." I responded matter-of-factly, resting my head on my hand, my elbow propped up on the table.

"Not a romantic relationship, stupid, as if I'd ever like you. I'd rather snog Umbridge's a-"

"I know you don't mean a romantic relationship, and I'm not stupid. I have more OWL's than you, remember. I mean, I don't like you, but I don't hate you. Anymore. You're just... there." I struggled to explain it, sighing and turning to face him properly, drawing my legs up to my chest and resting my chin on my knees.

"Wow, Granger, that's awfully flattering. I'm speechless." He said in a monotone, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, you know what I mean." I hissed, plucking his half-eaten chocolate frog out of his box and taking a bite of the leg. As Malfoy opened his mouth to protest, I held up a silencing hand, swallowing the food before saying, "Technically, it's my chocolate frog."

"Technically, I bought it, so you're stealing from me." He corrected me, snatching it back out of my hands and biting off the other leg. "Let me enjoy my chocolate in peace, I haven't had one of these in years." He muttered, placing it back in the box all the same.

"In years? Why not?" I asked with a frown, lifting my head.

"In case you weren't aware, my last couple of years at Hogwarts weren't exactly the most pleasant experience. The last thing on my mind was eating sugarfied animals, thank you very much." The Slytherin retorted, running a hand through his hair. The hand froze after a moment, though, and he reached up to gingerly pat his head. "How does it look?" He whispered, his expression one of fear.

I was, needless to say, rather confused. "Excuse me?"

"My hair. Does it look bad? Have I messed it up?" He asked again, more impatiently this time. I looked at him for a moment more, blinking, before I burst out laughing.

"What's so funny? Is it really that horrid? Ugh, it's going to take forever to fix." He groaned, at which I laughed even harder.

"Malfoy you utter idiot, it looks fine. Dear Merlin, there's so much product on your hair that it's practically glued to your head. I don't even know how you ever managed to run your hand through it in the first place." I commented - with great difficulty, as I still hadn't quite managed to calm down yet.

"Oh, sod off." He snarled in response, his arrogant attitude fully restored.

"You know what? That's not such a bad idea, after all. I'm almost positive that I've outstayed my welcome here." I paused, studying my apparent enemy's expression for a brief moment. "If I ever was welcome." I then added as an afterthought, right before I rose from my seat and headed over to the luggage rack. I tried several times to reach up and retrieve my suitcases from the shelf, but in truth, I was rather short for my age, so it was a struggle. To be honest, I wasn't exactly sure how I'd ever managed to deposit my things up there in the first place.

Flopping down on the seat below the luggage rack, I let out a heavy sigh, mentally cursing that particular compartment - because, unlike the others, it had been designed especially for the older students, and therefore had a slightly higher ceiling and more room to store things - higher up, of course. I chewed my lip thoughtfully - a bad habit of mine that I did a little too often - and attempted to think up all of the possible solutions to my small problem. Malfoy, however, somehow beat me to it, and before I had the chance to process what was happening, one of my cases had zoomed through the air and happened to land right on his knees.

"What are you doing?" I spluttered, bolting over to the other side of the compartment. "Give that back!"

"Or what? What are you gonna do, Granger? Fight me? Duel me? Snog me senseless for a distraction and then yank it out of my unsuspecting hands?" He drawled in response, his signature smirk playing on his lips. "No, I don't think so. It's mine, now. For as long as I say it is."

"What on earth do you want that for anyway?" I snapped back, placing my hands on my hips and cocking an eyebrow.

"Who said I wanted it? I just thought it'd be a good way to tease you. And would you look at that, I'm right! So, let's see what you have in here, shall we?" Malfoy hummed, unzipping the suitcase and opening it up as he observed my face carefully, not even bothering to hide his smugness. Then, he lowered his gaze again, beginning to rummage through my possessions.

"Hmm... clothes, clothes, clothes, books, clothes, and... are those? Ew, never mind. Honestly, I'm so damn glad that I'm not a girl." He muttered, more to himself than me. "Ooh, this is getting good. A diary, huh? How many juicy secrets do you have scribbled in these pages? Want me to find out?" He grinned, opening the front cover and scanning the first paragraph. "Ooh, look at the date! This has to have been in second year. I didn't know cats could write." He smirked faintly at his own joke, turning a page.

"Malfoy, stop it. You're being an ass." I mumbled wearily, giving up on my physical attempts at retrieving my belongings and deciding to stick to verbal.

"That's not necessarily a bad thing. I, personally, have a rather nice ass." Malfoy responded with a smirk, throwing a wink in my direction teasingly (was it twice that that had happened, now?). I blushed brightly and tried to shield my face from his view, which resulted in me turning the opposite way. 

"I beg to differ. I've seen Blast-Ended Skrewts that look more attractive, you know." I bit back, a triumphant smirk on my face - until I heard what the blonde git had to say next, of course.

"So you admit that you've been looking at my ass?" He replied casually, zipping my suitcase up again and pushing it towards me. I blushed furiously, vowing to bite my tongue the next time I had an opportunity to use my wit.

"I have to go and find my friends, Malfoy, if you'll excuse me." I muttered, grabbing the handles on my suitcases and wheeling them over to the door.

"Granger." He called after me, causing me to turn hesitantly and cock an eyebrow. "You still haven't denied anything." He smirked, almost chuckling as he watched my cheeks begin to flush pink.

"No, Malfoy, I haven't, thank you very much. And I sure as hell never will." I hissed, before slipping through the compartment door and heading down the hallway. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

DRACO

Whilst Granger had been preoccupied with trying (and failing) to hide her embarrassed blush from me, I'd slipped the book into my robes, feeling particularly pleased with myself when she didn't even remember it as I passed her suitcase back to her. I waited until the sound of her footsteps had faded, before I pulled her diary out of my pocket, opening it up to around five pages in.

For which reason I was uncertain, but what I was doing suddenly felt wrong. Despite the many years I'd spent taunting and teasing her, not once had I ever gone through her personal items. The thought of reading her diary, which was pretty much the equivalent to reading her damn mind, was... weird. I'd always felt that the show you put on is simply a mask to cover what's going on in your mind, and reading the pocket-sized, leather-bound book I held in my hands would be an invasion of her privacy and her personal thoughts. I wouldn't be so heartless this time. After all, I was trying to change.

But then I turned a page absentmindedly, and my gaze flickered over to a single word which was obviously scribbled both furiously and carelessly, standing out against the other words. At the end of said word, on the very tip of the curve on the letter y, there was a tiny hole that'd probably been made due to the quill pressing down on the page with too much force. I knew why. There, scratched in black ink onto the paper, was my name. Malfoy.

Now this sparked my interest. All previous ideas of simply returning the diary had been instantly replaced with those of why she'd mentioned my name. Has Granger had an insane crush on me for all these years? No wonder she's been staring at my ass. Of course, I didn't completely believe it, but I supposed that it was a possibility. One of many. Suddenly, I felt a little less guilty about invading her privacy. Because now, it wasn't just her business, it was mine. Sorta. Besides, I was only going to read that small little entry - what Granger didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

Dear Diary - Cliché, I thought.

\- To be perfectly honest, I'm not entirely sure whether or not it's a good idea to be noting down this event - in fact, I'm absolutely positive that it's not - because I have no doubt that, sooner or later, I'll be flicking through these pages and will come across it again. Perhaps I'll cry, ashamed of who I am compared to others in this school, my home, and who I was born to. Perhaps I'll smile, knowing that I'm stronger, and managed to get through what's probably going to be years of torture, taunting and teasing. Or, maybe, I won't ever read through the words I've written after all, and my diary will be lying in some musty corner of my attic, layered in dust. But, either way, I suppose that writing about my feelings could help with my current dilemma.

You see... well... Draco Malfoy - cue the tiny hole - I've written about him before, I know I have. And definitely not in a good way. And, unfortunately, this occasion isn't going to be much different. In fact, he did something even worse, this time. He-

But I was then distracted by the sound of the compartment door sliding open once again, and my head whipped up, a smirk gracing my features when I laid eyes on a rather furious-looking Gryffindor standing in the doorway. "Oops, is this yours? I do apologise, I didn't see that large and frankly kind of messy name written on the front cover. My mistake." I shrugged, faking innocence.

To be truthful, the last thing I wanted at that moment was to act in such a way. It wasn't right, what I'd been doing, and for once in my life I was willing to acknowledge it. Covering it with a smug expression and sarcasm wouldn't do me any good.

But that's her fault for confiding in a book instead of an actual person, isn't it? Stupid Granger. The darker, crueler voice inside my head butted in. I felt like arguing back with it, stating that it wasn't her fault at all, and that who did she have left after Potty and Weaselbee had abandoned her?

I scoffed aloud - no, I wasn't going to stick up for her at all. The rule was for me to act kindly towards her publicly, not privately, and certainly not in my head. But why was it so that I felt as if I was backing her up for her own sake, and not for the sake of this new task?

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Malfoy, give that back. I'm not going to ask again. If you give me reason to, I'll happily stun you." Came the voice that interrupted my thoughts, and I let out a deep sigh, before - almost regretfully - handing the diary to her. At least, if 'handing' meant throwing so aggressively that as it hit Granger's chest, a loud 'oof' escaped her lips. She scowled. "Goodbye, Malfoy."

"No, Granger, I have one last question." The girl turned to face me again, cocking an eyebrow, irritated yet seemingly mildly intrigued. "Why were you writing about me? Because, I mean, I'm flattered and all, but if you have some crush on me then I'd much prefer it if you tell me, and not secretly lust after me like a lovesick pupp-"

"Malfoy, I could write a whole damn book on all the reasons why you're most definitely, absolutely, totally wrong about that, but I'd rather not waste my time on you. Goodbye, Malfoy." She repeated, and I could tell by the finality of her tone that I'd perhaps gone just a little too far. Then, she spun around and marched out of the compartment, so hastily that her robes were billowing out behind her.

I rolled my eyes and grinned to myself, propping my feet up on the table in a completely carefree manner, in what felt like the first time in forever. Pulling the chocolate frog card out of my pocket and scanning it again, I scoffed. Stupid Granger. She still managed to look slightly decent even after battling the darkest wizards and witches of all time and undergoing what could only have been hours of torture.

The voice inside my head was back again. Don't pity her, goddamnit. Pity yourself. Sure, she was hit by the cruciatus curse multiple times, and had a word carved into her arm, all while you stood by helplessly and watched. But you've been witnessing death and experiencing pain for a couple of years! Somehow, though, this fact did nothing to reassure me. Because I'd never forgive myself.

Granger was young, and innocent, and brave, and good. She didn't deserve so much pain - perhaps the odd taunting in the hallway, yeah, but not physical torture. But it happened. And I didn't stop it when I had the chance. And I hated myself for it.

So much, in fact, that I hated myself almost as much as I hated her for making me feel so guilty.

A/N: I am soooooooooo sorry about the length of this chapter! Honestly, with school starting up again and stuff, I haven't had much time each day to write, so this on top of my other story took weeks! Hopefully, though, I'll update more often now, and chapters won't be so long.

Final word count - 9844


	2. Disaster

HERMIONE

"Malfoy's what?" yelped Ginny Weasley, causing several curious third years to glance in our direction. I hushed my friend, shooting a glare at the students who were now whispering and pointing in our direction. They scuttled away, leaving us three girls in peace once again.

"Can you say that a little louder, please? I don't think one or two people over in America heard you clearly enough." I muttered sarcastically, taking a sip of my pumpkin juice. It was only when I set the glass down again with a quiet clink that I realised Ginny had yet to make another sound since my small outburst, and I looked up at her again, only to find her looking straight back already. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just... Malfoy is head boy. Wow. You have to spend time with him! Talk to him!" The redhead spluttered, almost choking on a piece of chicken. Must be a Weasley thing, I thought,

"That's not so bad," Luna piped up dreamily, popping a pea into her mouth. "Well, compared to the fact that they'll be sharing their own private common room in a seperate tower, of course. Far away from everyone else. Free to do whatever they please together."

Ginny's face turned a sickly shade of green that'd make any Slytherin proud. "You don't have to..." She gulped loudly, "...share a bed with him, do you? Or even a room?" If I hadn't already swallowed my mouthful of pumpkin juice just milliseconds before I heard that question, I would've undoubtedly sprayed it all over the faces of my friends.

"What? Gin, no, that's ridiculous. Not only would I never do that, but the school would never allow it themselves. For privacy reasons. Trust me, I'm keeping my own bed. My own room, too." I replied with a scoff, shaking my head.

"Well then, that's good, I guess. Just please, 'Mione, don't let him get to you. Always remember that he's a snake, a foul git who's obviously gonna try his hardest to make your life a living hell, but you don't have to let him win."

"Actually, this year, he's going to be different. Almost nice. You have nothing to worry about, Hermione." The blonde girl sitting beside Ginny responded, smiling warmly at me. I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Who told you about Malfoy's task, Luna?" I asked, twirling my spaghetti around my fork absently.

"Task? What task? I can simply tell that he's willing to change himself, y'know, become a better person."

"Why, because of his aura?" Ginny asked - not mockingly, as most people would expect, but understandingly. Apparently, aura-reading was something Luna did often, and, truth to be told, it rather fascinated the redhead.

"No, not this time. I overheard he and his mother speaking about it at the station." She replied with a smile, and Ginny ahhed in realisation. "Plus, I passed him in the hallway as we were heading over here around an hour ago, and he didn't even glance at me in a funny way, though he used to do so every day without fail these last few years."

I felt the urge to change the subject immediately. The mere thought of having to tolerate Malfoy for a whole year was nauseating enough, let alone speaking of the git at the dinner table. "How's it going with Harry, Gin? And Neville, too, Luna?"

"Harry's.... Harry." Ginny sighed dreamily. "There's nothing more to say. He's the most wonderful man I've ever known, and holy crap, I miss him like crazy."

"Neville's nice, too. He went nargle hunting with me last summer. It was great, but we didn't find anything. It got a lot better, though, when he..." Luna trailed off and eyed both of us nervously, not wanting to cause a huge reaction, "... when he asked me to be his official girlfriend."

Ginny squealed and I pulled the blonde into a tight hug, grinning. "That's brilliant, Luna, I'm so happy for you!" Ginny exclaimed, and I hummed in agreement.

"Thank you both." the girl responded warmly, cheeks flushing red. "To be honest, it was hardly surprising, and I mean that in the least egotistical way possible. Whenever we went on little trips together or met up in some place, he'd say that he had something to tell me. He never got round to doing it, though. I'm pretty sure he got shy each time. I'm glad he plucked up the courage, though. He's wonderful." She beamed, twirling a thick lock of hair around her finger absently.

"Luna Pandora Lovegood, you have to promise me that you'll share every little detail about this glorious day with me tonight. Every. Little. Detail. There's no escaping it. Promise." Ginny grinned giddily, and Luna rolled her eyes playfully, before McGonagall cleared her throat, indicating that she was about to deliver the annual speech.

"Students!" She called out, at which everybody settled down immediately, conversations ending as quickly as they had begun. This was new, I thought, but I was hardly surprised. Everybody had been dreading this very moment ever since the second they'd discovered that they would be returning to Hogwarts, because for once, they knew exactly what it'd be about. Scanning the hall, I spotted that some were already pulling out tissues, and one or two Slytherins were hanging their heads in shame. Rightly so, I thought bitterly, regretting it instantly afterwards.

"Welcome," McGonagall continued, her face empty of expression at the moment, "to another year at Hogwarts. It'd be my pleasure to inform you that I see many, many new faces here in the crowd, however, that isn't so. There are only half of the usual amount of first years attending the school this year, due to the parents of most magic folk who believe that there's still a threat to those who step foot inside these very walls. Though, of course, I doubt there's a person here that hasn't figured that out for themselves, as you're all tremendously intelligent.

"Now, I can assure you that this information is false, and you're all perfectly safe, but there's not much I can do to convince people otherwise, I'm afraid. Not only that, but, as you all know, last year's battle had a devastating effect, so there are several faces missing from the great hall today, unfortunately." The majority of the students in the hall could've sworn that they saw their Headmistress shed a tear then, but nobody said a word.

"Of course, the students who fought in the battle were undoubtedly the most courageous people I've ever known. They risked their lives to save the rest of the wizarding world, and I'm truly sorry to say that a great deal of these students lost them. It'd taken the Gryffindors every ounce of courage they could muster to battle alongside their friends, and make sure that nobody was hurt. The Hufflepuffs stayed true to their title and were loyal to the very end, standing with us to fight just as bravely. The Ravenclaws were remarkably intelligent, and were, dare I say, responsible for the downfall of many death eaters. And the Slytherins..." McGonagall paused, and half of the school held their breath - myself included - expecting a lecture, or a string of insults directed towards the house.

"It was completely unexpected, mind, but a great surprise all the same. When I demanded that every member of said house be escorted back to their dormitories, there was an incredible amount that stayed behind to fight anyway. It occurred to me that most of you would be battling your own parents, and may have even been pressured to join the other side."

My gaze automatically flickered over to the blond seated at the Slytherin table, who didn't seem the slightest bit bothered by the whole 'speech' thing, and was currently picking at his food. Somehow, though, I could tell that it was hurting him. Because I clearly recalled him being willing to walk right over to the other side, and being the only one to do so. No part of this speech was directed at him, or so I assumed that he felt.

Though, as much as I tried to think otherwise, I simply couldn't help but feel bad for him. After all, judging by what I'd read in the papers - an unwise decision, as even the Daily Prophet was often unreliable, but it was all I had - he'd only taken the mark to protect his parents, and his friends. I didn't blame him - I would've done the same.

Except, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't overlook his actions towards me in the past. He'd always be Malfoy to me, not Draco, nor an ordinary student, or just my fellow Head. We were enemies. Nothing was going to change that fact, not even one little task, especially if it wasn't set for me in the first place.

It wasn't until I caught Draco's eye that I realised I'd been staring, and I switched my gaze back to the Headmistress instead, who had long since finished her speech. I felt a faint blush appear on my cheeks as I spotted him smirking out of the corner of my eye, and I figured he'd immediately assumed that I'd been staring for an entirely different reason.

Bloody fantastic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

DRACO 

Not for one stinking second had I thought that Granger's pitying expression towards me was for anything but just that - pity - though I fully intended to tease her about it later on. That didn't count as being cruel, right? I'd seen her friends tease her about things in the past. The cat incident, Viktor Krum, losing to Harry in potions, her terrible Divination skills... and I was going to taunt her about one teeny tiny thing. That wasn't so bad.

Turning to Blaise when the noisy chatter of the students was echoing around the room once more, I muttered, "I didn't wanna tell you at first because you won't ever let me hear the end of it, but I need some advice. I trust that you'll keep your mouth shut."

The Italian boy cocked an eyebrow, and nodded his head towards the shining silver badge pinned to my robes. "Is it about that? You already told me about Nott almost being Head Boy and stuff, you don't have to repeat it. And don't worry, you ain't gonna lose the position to him."

"No, it's not. Basically, my father bribed the Headmistress so that I could earn the badge, and I didn't like that. She gave me a task to complete, to make me feel better about being Head Boy or something like that. If I fail... Nott wins. It gets worse. The task is to be nice to the Head Girl up until Halloween. No insults, no physical or verbal fights." I paused to study Blaise's expression, to be sure that he was still listening.

"The Head Girl is Granger." I finished seriously, hiding my face in my hands. Everything was quiet for a moment - aside from the students' conversations still going on, of course - until Blaise erupted with laughter.

"This isn't a joke, Zabini, I need your help. I don't know how I'm gonna manage! She's just so.... so... annoying."

Blaise somehow managed to calm down after a moment or two, and he sighed thoughtfully, before suggesting, "Well, what is it that she does to annoy you? Perhaps then, you can ask her to stop it."

"I... well..." I stuttered, before groaning and hitting my head against the table, leaving my forehead pressed against the wood. "I don't know! It's just... everything she does drives me insane." I lifted my head again and frowned. "I don't hate anything in particular about her, I just hate her. And I hate that I hate her! This'd be so much easier if she wasn't such a.... Gryffindor! Mudblood! Bookworm! Anything."

"So what you're trying to say is that you'd be prefer it if she didn't exist?" Blaise asked with a chuckle. "That's harsh, Draco, even for you."

"Yes, I- no- ugh! I don't know. I just don't fancy the idea of putting up with her for the whole year." I muttered, running my hand through my hair, long past caring about it.

"Give her a chance. If anything, it should be her hating you, not the other way round." The Italian pointed out, wincing as his fork made an ear-splitting scraping sound on his plate. "Hate that." He muttered, dropping the cutlery on the table in disgust.

"A chance? A bloody chance? What could possibly be much different, Zabini? She's a bookish mudblood who is given far more appreciation for her grades than she deserves. Heck, I read in the Daily Prophet that she had to travel across the world just to convince her parents to love her again. She must've done something truly wicked. Of course, I admire that, but... her parents? Really?"

"Oh puh-lease, Malfoy. Perfect Granger and her perfect family? There's nothing she could've done to make them hate her that much. No, Skeeter probably exaggerated. Wouldn't be the first time." He muttered bitterly in response, flicking a pea at Pansy who shot a glare in his direction.

"Granger's family is far from perfect. So far that they're probably the opposite. For starters, they're muggles. Second, their job is to fix teeth. What kind of a job is that? Do they have no other talent than to do by hand what us magic folk can do with our wands? Honestly. She's as abnormal as it gets." I scowled as Pansy aimed to throw a potato at Blaise, but missed and hit me instead.

"Abnormal? Ha! I bet you can't look me in the eye right now and tell me that if you'd never discovered that she was a muggle-born in the first place, you would've guessed it on your own. Because trust me, nobody else did." I scoffed, but I knew my friend was right. Granger was just as magical as anybody else at Hogwarts, in terms of her understanding of it and if not, even more so.

"That's not the point, Zabini." I sighed after a moment of thinking, raising my knife and bringing it down on the table with such force that it remained fixed in the wood when I removed my hand. Blaise glared at me. "Oops?"

"Save it, Malfoy. I'm going back to the common room, are you comi-" he stopped mid-sentence, and a smirk crept across his features. "Oh, how silly of me, you'll no longer be joining us. That's unfortunate. Well, have fun with Granger." Blaise grinned and helped Pansy up from her seat - wonder why, I thought with a scoff, she's never struggled before - before waltzing out of the great hall. My gaze flickered over to Granger, who was currently in the midst of gossiping with Weaslette and Looney. I groaned. I wasn't sure I'd have any fun with her at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HERMIONE

Four hours after dinner - in other words, extremely late - I was studying hard in the library, because although it had closed, Madame Pince favoured me, and trusted me enough to lock the door whenever I'd finished. So there I was, reading a book in complete silence, and to me, silence was bliss. The only noise ever made was the thumping of new books being dropped on the table. To be truthful, I didn't need to study anymore. And although I'd never admit it, I was bored out of my mind. But it was better than tolerating Malfoy's presence for longer than necessary.

If I was to be entirely honest, I'd admit to myself that I didn't even really have anything to study for - due to the role I played in the war, I could quite easily be offered any job in the whole wizarding world. However, that would mean that I hadn't truly earned whatever position I may acquire, and though this didn't faze my two best friends, it meant the world to me. I'd never been a fan of cheating, nor would I ever be in the near future, so I wasn't about to sink so low as to practically steal a job from some other deserving witch or wizard. More deserving than me.

Casting my gaze to the astronomy tower clock, a long-ish distance away but close enough to catch a glimpse of from the library window, a high-pitched yelp escaped my lips as it dawned on me that I'd lost track of time and ended up studying for an awful lot longer than planned. Gathering a few books together for a bit of light reading and deciding to explain to the librarian why they'd suddenly gone missing tomorrow, I slipped out of the library and cast the Lumos charm, a satisfactory smile appearing on my face as I watched the golden glow emanating from the tip of my wand illuminate the hallway. Taking extra care to avoid alerting any students, or Filch, I tiptoed my way towards the Head dormitories, making a silent a vow to either avoid or be civil towards the ferret for as long as possible. There was no use declaring war with him - I was pretty sure we'd both had enough of that to last a lifetime.

I was dragged harshly back to reality when my thoughts were disrupted by what I assumed was shattering glass, coming from the direction of the Head's tower. Malfoy. No doubt he'd probably found a way to break into my room and trash it, destroying a few of my personal trinkets for good measure. Oh, how I was looking forward to living with him for a year. If we'd barely even exchanged a few words and he was already taking care to ruin my life, how were the next few months going to be? He was going to be a dick, as he was now. Plain and simple.

Then why could I hear another male's voice yelling at him?

Finally deciding that I ought not to hesitate any longer, I took a deep breath and flung the door open, failing to pause and prepare myself for whichever disaster I was mere seconds from being greeted by. A disaster that I hadn't exactly been expecting, to say the least.

I recognised Theodore Nott from photos in the Daily Prophet of he and his father, though it was rather difficult to identify him since he wasn't wearing his usual scowl. In fact, painted on his face was a smirk any Malfoy would be proud of - yet after one glimpse of my fellow Head's expression, he looked far from it.

"What on Earth are you doing here, Granger?" He spat, with just a hint of disgust, though that seemed directed at the other boy. Either he was too preoccupied to be repulsed by my very presence right now, or he was actually making an effort to get along with me, as the headmistress had requested.

"What am I doing here? This is my dorm too, Malfoy, in case you'd forgotten." I paused and nodded my head in Theodore's direction to indicate that I was referring to him. "But it's not his. What's he doing here?" I hissed, glancing at the other Slytherin with an expression that, to Malfoy's apparent horror, held no trace of maliciousness. I was aware of this, and could only hope that nobody assumed this was for any other reason other than the fact that I was never quick to judge.

"Nice to meet you too, Hermione Granger." Theodore spoke my name as if it was a mental note that his reputation wasn't so tarnished that he could actually meet a member of the golden trio, rather than to merely acknowledge my presence. "I'm Theodore Nott, though judging by your lack of confusion, you already know that." His voice was light, almost gentle, unlike Malfoy's smooth yet sarcastic tone. A shiver ran down my spine. Too gentle. Too similar to those of many death eaters I'd met in the past, trying to keep up their nice act. Too... dangerous.

But, as mentioned before, I wasn't quick to judge.

"You too, I suppose, Theodore." I responded boldly, though still wary internally. "And don't take this the wrong way, but might I ask what you're doing here? I'm hardly going to receive a reply from Malfoy any time soon." Shooting a meaningful glare in the blonde's direction, I frowned.

"Nothing." Responded the brunette boy, flashing me a charming grin. "We were just... having a nice chat." I had watched more than enough muggle movies to be wary of that one phrase, and I glanced at Malfoy uncertainly. He seemed entirely normal - for a snobby pureblooded wizard, anyway - if a little appalled at his former friend's behaviour. I presumed that this was purely due to the fact that Nott was engaging in conversation with me. Me. A damn muggleborn.

"Hmm. Well, I'm almost positive that this chat of yours could easily be resumed over breakfast tomorrow. That is, if Malfoy has no duties. Being Head Boy is a rather powerful title, and very difficult to achieve, wouldn't you agree?" I inquired with a sickly sweet smile. Malfoy snickered aloud, and Theodore's eyes narrowed.

"Yes, well, I was just leaving." He snarled at the blonde, winked at me and had left the room in 3 long strides. As the portrait door swung shut behind him with an echoing thunk, Malfoy groaned and slid down the wall.

"You're such a moron, Granger." He spat, massaging his temple with his hands. "Why'd you have to waltz in at that moment? Aren't total nerds like you supposed to, like, live in the library?"

"Yeah, says the one who's a close second in all of our classes together."

"This isn't a joke, Granger. Are you really that stupid, or just oblivious to the fact that Nott is a player. And I'm not just referring to his manwhore reputation, I'm talking about his tendency to manipulate teenagers and adults alike. Trust me when I say that he's a younger version of his father, okay? You have no idea who you're dealing with. And please, before you start with that smartass attitude of yours, consider making this situation a little easier for me? Contrary to what you may believe, mudblood, he's ten times worse than me. You won't last a week. Heck, not even a day."

I blinked. For a split second, I'd gotten the impression that Malfoy was actually mildly concerned about my welfare, until I realised that he'd obviously only been attempting to convince me that I was better off with him so his title wouldn't be passed to Nott.

"Malfoy." I started calmly, crossing my arms. "First of all, I don't see how Nott being a player should affect me in any way, shape or form. I thought that even you'd know I'm not the type of person to swoon instantly at a pretty face and a wealthy, pure background. Second, I can take care of myself, thank you very much. It wouldn't be the first time. And finally, this is your task, not mine. All I have to do is go along with this whole 'being-nice-in-public' thing. I'm not required to help you. After all, what have you ever done to help me?" The question was rhetorical, but I didn't doubt that it would've made Malfoy think to himself even so. As much as he would've hated to admit it, I was right. As always.

"Whatever. I don't need, nor want, help from a stupid mudblood like you anyway. I don't need help from anybody. I'm more than capable of knocking down one pathetic obstacle myself, thank you very much." He retorted indignantly, before turning on his heel and marching into what I presumed to be his bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DRACO

The students returning to Hogwarts had been advised to do so on a Saturday, in order for everybody to have a little more free time to roam the newly-rebuilt grounds and become a little more used to the difference in appearance & structure. Some classrooms had suddenly been transported from one end of the school to the other, for example, and the land that held the quidditch pitch was too damaged to do so now, so that'd been moved too. Most people were also glad because it gave them an opportunity to get used to the sudden drop in the number of students milling around the school.

I, on the other hand, was quite ecstatic to be starting classes in a fairly short amount of time. I preferred things to remain as normal as possible, because if this was so, I wouldn't have this nagging guilty feeling constantly tugging on my heart at every minuscule difference I noticed about the castle. However, I still had 24 hours left to endure whilst avoiding any problems I might've faced if I hadn't been so wary: and 90% of these problems involved her. How fun. Spending my last few hours of freedom trapped in a room with the person I loathed more than anything in my life.

Okay, that wasn't quite true, and I'd already admitted that thousands of times in my head. But just instantly befriending her? After years of merciless torture? She'd only suspected that something was wrong.

And it was. Because I was going batshit crazy at the thought of a) a few of my Slytherin housemates hating my guts for the little betrayal stunt I pulled during and before the battle, where I both refused to admit whether Harry was Harry or not when his face was fucked up back at Malfoy Manor, and my mother lied in the face of the dark lord and declared that the Pothead was dead when he was breathing just fine (this wasn't my fault, of course, but those who spread the rumours twisted things a bit), and b) the members of every other house despising me for joining him in the first place. I was in a rather painful position, and the only three people who were present on most occasions to back me up perhaps hated me more than anybody else did.

Sighing aggressively as I leaned on the balcony of the astronomy tower, since I gathered that I wouldn't be disturbed up there, I surveyed the scene below me thoughtfully. Everybody looked so happy, I noted in disdain, scoffing as a couple of first years pranced around like drunken hippogriffs on the very patch of land on which Dumbledore had lay, dead, just 3 years prior. So stupid. So oblivious.

Weaslette, Dean whats-his-face and the Irish guy from Gryffindor were chatting animatedly on the grass beneath what remained of the Whomping Willow, the girl making an odd whooshing movement with her hand to indicate that they were talking about flying, or Quidditch. Then, she balled her hand into a fist and punched the palm of her other hand, causing me to raise a bemused eyebrow, and then she scrunched her face up and yelled, clearly imitating somebody - not nastily, but still in a way that was probably intended to provide humour. When her head gestured towards something to her left, I followed it, and my face was instantly drained of what little colour it originally held.

Granger had well and truly been lured into the snake pit, because for the second time since we'd arrived, she was talking face-to-face with Nott.

Wand in one hand and the other clenched tightly into a fist, I practically flew down the steps of the tower and out onto the grass, swiftly approaching my fellow Head and my new official nemesis. Screw Potter, I thought bitterly, my strides becoming longer and more purposeful now. I'd much rather see Nott's head on a stick.

"..I don't think that's such a goo-" I heard the brunette begin as I drew nearer to the pair, unbeknownst to them.

"Oh, come on, please? I promise I won't pull anything. And I won't acknowledge you outside of that, if you'd prefer. I'm desperate." Nott replied in a sickly sweet voice, running a hand through his hair to feign stress.

"I'll think about it."

"Is this because of Draco?"

"Is what because of Draco?" I had finally reached the duo, my grip on my wand tightening to the point where my knuckles were turning white. The Gryffindor's head snapped towards me, but Nott didn't meet my gaze at first, smirking and keeping it fixed on Granger.

"Well, Theo- Theodore and I were just having a casual conversation. We're fine. This doesn't concern you." She stated, though I couldn't help but notice that she couldn't quite bring herself to look me in the eye.

"If it doesn't concern me, Granger, then why did I hear him say my name?" I hissed, my eyes burning holes in the side of Theodore's head.

"Why don't you ask him yourself instead of being bitter towards me for merely conversing with one of your 'foes', Malfoy." She suggested calmly.

"There's no need, 'Mione," Theodore began, causing even Granger to cringe at the nickname, "I mean, would it truly benefit Draco to have him hear just what we were speaking of? Hardly not. It'd only lead him to believe that he could demand anything he wanted of you and have you obey him, and you wouldn't like that, would you? Remember, 'Mione -" he paused only temporarily, to cross his arms and smirk slyly in my direction, "- He manipulated and bullied and taunted you every year before the war. Now it's up to you to decide whether you want that to happen again or not. Your life is in your hands. Make the right decision. I've done nothing wrong, nor will I ever."

"He's lying, Granger. Didn't I already warn you about Nott? And that was before the pair of you had ever interacted. Why would I be making this up-"

"Stop it. Malfoy," the Gryffindor began, and a spark of hope lit up in the pit of my stomach. Quite frankly, I didn't give two shits about whether Granger would dislike me or not, since I wasn't particularly fond of her myself, but if Nott could warp the mind of the brightest witch of her age, he could do worse things to everybody else. "He has a point."

Something inside me flipped over several times like a particularly skilled acrobat on a trapeze, but I was no acrobat, and I felt like I was mere moments away from throwing up. Fuck Granger, for being so bloody ignorant that she couldn't see the danger right in front of her nose. Fuck Nott, because at this rate, he'd manipulate Granger into pleading for him to become head boy instead. Dammit, dammit, dammit. I'd fucked up, and I could, and would, acknowledge that. I had to do something, before the situation got any more extreme than it actually was.

"Nott. I'll speak to you later. Granger, I'd appreciate it if we could have a word. About.. organising prefect duties, and all that." I waved my hand dismissively, trying my utmost hardest to suppress an eye-roll. My plot worked, though. Her eyes lit up with delight - bloody delight - at the idea of organising something, whether it was with me or not, and she only hesitated for a segment of a moment before she nodded. "Of course. we do need to get those done, don't we? Excuse me, Theo. I'll catch up with you later?"

I took Hermione's head turning towards my foe as an opportunity, and I mocked her, shooting a glare at Nott. The other Slytherin merely smirked, and nodded. "Consider my request", he mumbled, before he held his hand up and waved his fingers in farewell. The brunette merely nodded, spun on her heel and marched over in the direction of the Head dormitories, and I began traipsing along behind her.

"By the way, Malfoy, you had no reason to interrupt that. Theo is actually kind, a quality you clearly envy. You have no other reason for going after him." she declared, hair swinging sideways as she walked. I gathered up every ounce of strength to avoid shrieking that she was wrong, and she had no idea what Nott had done in the past. Though my unnaturally pale face flushed red, he composed himself.

"Granger, how could you be so clueless, goddamnit? You haven't seen what he's done. He's tortured, he's murdered, he- it's utterly pathetic how you're such a goody two-shoes, but it'd be incredibly helpful if you could use the more realistic, lighter side of you to steer clear of the prat. For your own sake." If I was being entirely truthful, I couldn't give a flying fuck about her sake, it was my own reputation that was at stake. If I was making attempts to better myself, taking a few swings at one of my own house members would do more harm than good, even if it did give me the opportunity to jeer at Nott for his bloody nose.

"And so have you, if I recall correctly." The curly-haired girl retorted, halting in her tracks and turning to face me. "You're no better, Malfoy."

"I've never done anything I didn't have to do for the safety of my family. Everything I did that led to Dumbledore's death was to protect my mother and father. If I failed to follow the dark lord's rules, all three of us would be dead, don't you understand? For once in your bloody life, Granger, you're not the know-it-all you want everyone to think you are." as I finished, I exhaled deeply through my nostrils, glaring intently at her as if she'd just single handedly made the world around me as I knew it collapse.

Ignoring me, although her expression betrayed her confusion, she spun on her heel once again and entered the castle, with me still trailing behind her.

"You're not really going to organise these damned prefect duties, are you? I only said that so Nott would piss off." I drawled, brow furrowed in irritation.

"McGonagall organises prefect duties. I thought you'd know that. Everyone does. Well - apparently not everyone." Granger didn't even slow down or turn around to speak to me, but she continued walking, making her way up the steps that lead to the Heads' quarters. Scowling until a look of bewilderment settled on my face instead, I inquired, "Then - why did you walk away from him if you knew we didn't have to sort them out?"

Turning her head to peer over her shoulder, Granger smiled - not at me, never at me, but at the fact that she knew I'd be tearing myself up over that concealed piece of information for hours.

"I'll see you, Malfoy." she stated instead, taking the steps up to our dormitory two at a time. That's informative, I thought, backing away from her retreating figure.

"I certainly hope not." I spat, most definitely loud enough for her to hear, but the only sound that came from her end was her footsteps tapping up each stone step, to my utter dismay. How was I supposed to provoke her privately (if I couldn't publicly) when she wouldn't even respond?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HERMIONE

"What are you doing, Mudblood? You nearly scared the life out of me." Malfoy spat, as his gaze fell on me as I was slumped beside the portrait leading into our dormitories, playing with my wand.

"It's a shame that I didn't scare the asshole out of you, too. I'll aim to improve my strategy, next time." I retorted sarcastically, rolling my eyes to enunciate my irritation. "What took you so long?"

"Why, miss me?" his signature smirk masked his confusion - at least, until the realisation of what he'd done dawned on him, and his smug grin widened.

"You wish. I think the only person who could possibly miss you is Umbridge. It's not often that she finds somebody with an ego as sizeable as hers." I remarked, standing up and brushing off my skirt, as a large amount of dust had gathered on the material. I'd been there for... a while.

"Oh please, there is only one incredibly sizeable part of me, and, let me tell you, it's not my ego." he winked at me, and my face contorted in emotional agony. It wasn't so much the comment that revolted me, but rather the fact that I wasn't all that repulsed by the mental image that popped up in my head.

"You're disgusting, Malfoy. Now, can you let me in this damned common room?"

"Why? Is the password too difficult for you to figure out?"

"Oh, no, the lady in the portrait told me exactly what the password is. I'm just too dignified to say anything like it." a faint red tinge had become present on my cheeks, and I was sure that even the flickering glow of the torches adorning the stone walls weren't quite dim enough to hide the sudden colour in my face.

"Hermione Granger? Afraid of tarnishing her dignity? Well, I never." the blond practically beamed, crossing his arms and cocking one eyebrow. "It's a password, frizz-top. It can't be that... dreadful." a knowing glint in his eye very nearly pushed me over the edge, and it took every last bit of strength in me to restrain myself from smacking him in the face.

"Frizz-top? That's new, and astoundingly ineffective. You're slacking on your insults, I don't know whether that's satisfactory or disappointing. And you know it's dreadful, Malfoy, you chose it yourself. I refuse to say it. You could be recording me."

"What the hell is recording? Some of us are pure, Granger, and don't affiliate ourselves with Muggles and Squibs and that lot. It's humiliating. Stop trying to feed me your weird useless knowledge." he scowled, leaning on one shoulder against the wall.

"You need to relax. Seriously. I forgot that magic folk didn't have recordings or videos, just- say the password and we can part ways." I pinched the bridge of my nose, my eyes closed in concentration. Malfoy, on the other hand, was in his element, his lips curving to form yet another smirk.

"Just say it. I won't publicly hold it against you, nobody that matters to you will believe me." This gave me a sense of false hope, since I didn't seem to initially get the hidden meaning behind him saying he 'won't publicly' torment me, and I sighed in defeat.

"Fine. But cover your ears." I scolded, and I could tell that he only pretended to oblige, but, of course, he could still hear perfectly.

Inhaling through my mouth deeply, I took a step towards the portrait door and, with a lowered voice, cleared my throat and muttered, "Draco Malfoy has... quit staring!"

"Sorry not sorry, Granger, the look on your face is too golden to miss, right now."

"I will quite happily refuse to say a word, Malfoy. We'll both be locked out of here, then."

"You and I both know that'd never happen, Gryffin-bore. You're not as stubborn as you want everyone to think you are." He replied with a scoff, taking his robes off and hanging them over one arm. "But I can get myself comfortable out here, if you wish to remain locked out. Go on, Granger. Be my guest. Don't say a word. To be quite honest, it'd be doing us both a favour."

With a scowl on my face that'd make even Lucius Malfoy himself proud, I cleared my throat once again and, after much hesitation, muttered "Draco Malfoy has a fine ass."

As a result, the door swung open, and Malfoy started clapping, cackling manically. "Dear Merlin, Granger, if you fancied me so much you could've said so."

"Malfoy, remember, you said-" I froze mid-sentence though, as I realised that he hadn't exactly promised not to taunt me about it behind closed doors. Clenching my first, I stormed through the door and threw myself onto an armchair, arms crossed and my face contorted in rage.

"What's the matter, Granger? You look rather crestfallen. Is it because you know you're never gonna have me all to yourself, like in your wildest fantasies, hm? Keep dreaming - although I'm sure I don't have to tell you to make that happen." He winked at me, sauntering off into his room and flinging the door shut behind him. Grabbing a gold and silver patterned pillow, I pressed it to my face and screamed into it, using all my strength up so I wouldn't have the energy to follow him and clip him 'round the ear.

"This means war, Malfoy. I promise you." I shrieked at his general direction, before heading to my own room and using a charm to lock the door.

And that was a promise I kept.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DRACO

Not once did I stop to ponder on what exactly Granger had meant by 'war'. Was she declaring it herself? Or simply predicting that our time together wouldn't be as tranquil as she'd hoped?

I doubted it. Divination had never particularly been her forte.

Plus, she'd fought in a wizarding war that was bound to go down in history. Why would she be so petty as to willingly pick a fight with one single student, when she'd battled the dark lord himself at some point? The mere thought of it was utterly ridiculous. Completely bonkers.

I'd acknowledged that she wasn't so stupid that she'd use my prank, and change the password to her liking, because a) she was far brighter than that (though I'd never openly admit it), and b) some small part of her must know that it'd be ineffective. What she'd consider to be 'too excessive' would be child's play for me. Surely her act of retaliation (if any) wouldn't be too extreme? I had nothing to worry about, right?

Wrong. Something tugged at my mind for the entirety of classes the next day, urging me to be careful around her, because who knew what she had planned. One thing that I'd learned after 7 years of attending the same school as her was that when she said she'd do something, there was a 0.5% chance that she'd fail to do it. This girl was dubbed the 'brightest witch of her age', for God's sake, if she meant trouble, I was in it. Deep.

I'd lied to myself, clearly. I'd pondered on it since the second she spoke those few words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HERMIONE

"These flash cards really are paying off, 'Mione! I know I'm going to ace this test, really. And that's all because of you."

Never in a million years would I have guessed that this'd happen, to put my astonishment lightly. On numerous occasions in the past two hours alone, I'd subtly pinched myself, hard, to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Glancing down at the red marks and crescent shaped dents in my arm, I scowled. Those would bruise.

Plastering a smile on my face and yanking my sleeve down before the student opposite me could comment, I held up another piece of card, reading, "Draught of Living Death."

"Uhh... infusion of wormwood, powdered root of asphodel, sloth brain and juices of a sopophorous bean."

"Close," I responded, placing the card down. "You forgot Valerian Sprigs, but- that doesn't matter. We've done enough, for today. I don't understand how you can endure repeating potion ingredients for half an hour straight, you must be going insane."

"What? No, of course not. I'm, uh, I'm really glad you're helping me." Theodore Nott beamed, leaning back on the sofa. "I think I'm pretty much full of ten times more knowledge than I was before."

"Ten times zero is still zero, you painfully dense little rat." sneered a figure in the door way, and I rolled my eyes, though that was mostly in an attempt to cover the smirk that was tugging on my lips. I was winning, if I hadn't won already.

"What's wrong, Malfoy? I'm only tutoring your Slytherin pal. Don't you think it'd be best if I bond with your friends, too? Might loosen the tension between us, make the next few months more tolerable." shuffling the cards together and placing them on the coffee table, I stood up, playing with my wand. It wasn't in a threatening manner, but I assumed by his evident state of annoyance that it helped improve the fearless image I'd built for today and today only.

"Nott, I want you out. Now." The boy spat, ignoring my (presumably rhetorical) question and taking a few menacing steps towards the other Slytherin. Theo instantly rose from his seat and bit his lip, backing away towards the door, and that seemed to astonish Malfoy.

"Sorry to cut our meeting short, 'Mione. I'll see you tomorrow, I suppose... is that okay, Draco?" He inquired, seeming genuinely heartbroken to be kicked out of their common room. Malfoy scowled. I knew what he was thinking - I'd planned this purely to make him think that. t He thought that, at this rate, Nott would have me wrapped around his little finger by next week. It wouldn't surprise him if I was sporting my very own dark mark the next time we crossed paths. I could see the disgust creeping its way across his face, and it was difficult to restrain myself from laughing.

"Of course, Theo. I'll see you." I responded, turning to face Draco with a smug grin on my face the moment the portrait slammed shut. "What's wrong? Have I struck a nerve?"

"How dare you."

"Excuse me?"

"How dare you?" with a hiss that presented every reason why Draco had been sorted into Slytherin in itself, he crossed the room to me in three strides and gripped my shoulders, eyes positively filled with malice. "After I warn you about Nott, and his nature, and McGonagall tells us that we have to get along and even your bloody nutty friend Lovegood makes a point to say that I'm trying to change, you bring him here? There's a difference between war and plain callousness. You've crossed a line, Granger."

"Really, Malfoy? You're trying to make me look cruel, now? It seems as though you're rubbing off on me already. Cut it out, he's your own house member. You know? 'You'll make your real friends'? Give him a chance, you weren't exactly a saint yourself in the battle. You stood by and watched carelessly as I had a word carved into my arm by your own aunt at your own house. We all have our demons, so stop trying to cover up yours."

Silence fell over the two for a brief eight seconds - I think we both counted - before Malfoy released his grip on me and took a step back, crossing his arms instead. "You and I both know I would've been killed if I'd stopped my aunt from torturing you. Hell, she could've turned her wand to me herself. Nott had choices, Granger." the venom that his voice formerly held had seeped away into nothingness, and instead, he sounded almost regretful. I knew better, though. He just wanted to maintain his position as head boy out of spite, surely.

"What, and you didn't?" shaking his head, Draco made a beeline for his bedroom, shoving the door open, and I assumed that he wouldn't respond until he finally spoke up.

"You'd be surprised."

Without giving me a chance to respond, the oak-wood door swung shut, leaving me to battle my own conscience in front of the fire place, instead. 

 

A/N: jfjdjfn I feel like this chapter could've been so much better - AND longer - but I'm not trying as hard as I was in chapter one, whoops. I promise I'll up my game from now on!! In the meantime... vote & review? :')


	3. Sweet Dreams

 

DRACO

 

All I needed to survive the next day of classes was a good, long night's sleep. It'd taken me a whole year to figure out how even a couple of hours of rest could lighten my mood considerably, why even the most depressing days could be flipped right around after a nap, but I'd finally come to a conclusion.

As bizarre as it sounded to people who hadn't been in my position even once, I was more than positive that the reason I valued even a little bit of shut-eye so much was because I rarely ever got even a tolerable amount in my youth. If anything, it was possible that the only time I slept for a lengthy time period undisturbed was when I was just a baby, but, of course, I couldn't remember that.

From my first to fourth year, my nights were constantly disrupted by my father planning and plotting with his fellow bloody death eaters, and when at Hogwarts, I spent my nights trying to find out what my father was plotting with the death eaters. I also liked to plot against Potter, too, but that was hardly important.

Then, from the end of fourth year onwards came the responsibility, and the pressure. He-who-must-not-be-named had torn my life apart by coming back, and often using our dining room as a damned execution chamber. It wasn't just the shrieking that kept me awake at home, but the idea that, one day, the screams ringing throughout the halls of Malfoy Manor could be my own.

Needless to say, I wasn't wrong. It was my 15th birthday, at the end of my fourth year - after that snake-faced twat had returned - on which I was told that I was to accept the position of a death eater - dark mark and all. Naturally, I protested, but instead of merely talking it through with me, I was met with my father's wand and not a scolding conversation. As if the nights at the manor weren't bad enough, I had nightmares to endure at school, especially when I was literally hired as an assassin. 

 

So, now that the war was over, the serpent that haunted my dreams had been vanquished, I took every opportunity to get all the sleep I could, which, apparently, was beginning to pay off. My eyes weren't as sunken anymore, nor were the circles around them purple, and I didn't look like I'd just stepped out of a vampire novel. Perhaps that explained why so many girls had tried throwing themselves at me, whether they loathed me or not.

Now that I only shared a tower with bloody Granger, I expected that I'd get even more sleep than usual, but I was sadly mistaken. For some reason, when I awoke after what seemed to be an 8-hour-long rest, the sky outside still somewhat resembled black silk, and it took a good few minutes until it dawned on me that it was the middle of the night. Probably about two in the morning, no doubt. So, why I'd apparently woken up of my own accord was beyond me.

That is, until a clanging noise erupted from Granger and I's joint bathroom, and I emitted a deafening groan as I flung the blanket off me and stood up, heading towards the sound regardless of whether I was clad only in pyjama bottoms or not. Flinging the door open and intentionally making as much noise as possible in the process, I froze to find her huddled in a ball beside the bathtub, her cheeks stained with tears, hair messy from tossing and turning for a while.

Now, that was a sight I hadn't expected. The drowsy part of me had simply put the racket down to her searching for something amongst her toiletries, or noisily using the toilet, not having a breakdown in the middle of the tiled floor. The old Draco was positively beaming with delight at the sight of this... this muggle-born in such a vulnerable, fragile state, but the newer, hopefully improved side of me felt a pang in my heart, and I wanted to take back everything cruel I'd ever said to her there and then.

Except, I couldn't. Not just because of my pride, but because it was against every single thing I'd ever believed in, and it was too large a step in such a short time period. In the future, perhaps my heart would grow again - purify, if you will - but, for now, it was only right for me to take baby steps, instead of jumping from one extreme to the other. So, no, I couldn't hold her like a friend would, I couldn't smoothen down her hair (or, well, attempt to) and sit with her until she fell asleep and was peaceful once again, but instead, my damned stubbornness meant I could only do the bare minimum.

"Is- is everything okay, Granger? You're being a little noisy. Actually- no, that's an understatement." Right, so, I know there's a long line between taking baby steps and just being plain rude, and I just obliterated that line, but kindness was a trait I wasn't used to having, much to my ultimate dismay.

"Sorry if I woke you." I blinked helplessly, stunned that she hadn't thought of a witty comment to fire back at me for my own. "I was reaching for the, uhm, the tissue, and I knocked stuff down as I was. Next time, knock, though. I could've been indecent."

Shit. I hadn't considered that. What would I have done if she'd done what Daphne Greengrass apparently used to like doing and took a midnight bath to soothe her nerves? I would've been screwed. Reputation - ruined. All chances of keeping a straight face as I taunted and teased her - destroyed. Instead of saying any of this aloud, though, I merely nodded, hesitating before I sat a few feet away from her on the ground, drawing my knees underneath my chin.

"So... why are you in here at three in the morning, shaking like a leaf?" my question was genuine, and sincere, despite what one may think, but that didn't stop her from scoffing as she avoided my gaze.

"You don't have to feel obliged to act like you care, Malfoy. Just... go back to bed, and I swear you won't hear a peep from me, from now on." I placed my hands on the floor on either side of me, preparing to push myself off from the ground, before I thought against it and placed them back on my knees. One thing I did know about misery was that it's never right to leave people alone when they're wallowing in self-despair. I'd always prayed that my father would stay behind and listen to my problems, but he never had either the time or the fucks to give. Perhaps if he had, I would've turned out different.

"Granger, look. Pothead and Weaselbee are gone. Poof. They're not here. Weaslette seems a little too immature to understand much - no offence, but it's a fact - and Loony's literally and figuratively away with the fairies 24/7. Who else do you have? I'm not the ideal person to be sitting here and allowing you to break down to me, hell, I know that. I'm pretty sure that I'm one of the main reasons for you having cried yourself to sleep in the past, but-" I paused, and she met my gaze. Hopefully, the eye contact at least meant she was willing to give me a chance, so I shuffled closer for good measure. 

"-What I mean is, I'm here. If you want to rant, go for it. If you want me to kick some ass, then I'll let you know in advance that it won't be for you, but it'll be because I haven't given anybody a piece of my mind for months and it's killing me." At that, she laughed, which relieved me a little, since now I knew that I wasn't making a complete fool of myself whilst performing this spontaneous little speech.

Silence fell, then, and I didn't want to mind, since that meant she was thinking over my proposal and not instantly dismissing it, but, mind you, it was 3am and I was fucking exhausted. The bookworm knew how to take her precious bloody time. I felt like throwing a few bottles of hair product on the floor myself, just to release any irritation I was feeling so I wouldn't fuck up and be forced to retrace my baby steps. 

"Since the war," she began after a while, and my head snapped up, eyes fixed on hers, which were now staring down at the ground, "well, no, since just before the war, really, I've been having... nightmares. And I know it sounds pathetic, really, I do, and I keep reminding myself that it's all over and nothing's going to hurt me, but it just... it doesn't work, Malfoy. I've had to sleep in my parents' bedroom before now, though I couldn't do that for long because they're still in Australia, but they.. they're not here now." She inhaled, her sparkling caramel eyes meeting mine, wiping a tear from her cheek which did nothing to stop the flow of water escaping. 

"I don't feel safe. And, I know I should, because Voldemort's been defeated and he can't hurt me or my family and friends now, but it's not just him, it's..." she glanced at me cautiously, scanning my face as if she was aiming to detect any signs of anger, but, finding none, she continued. "It's the death eaters. His followers. They're still out there, and they're mad. Who knows what they could be - what they could -" but she was crying properly now, her voice breaking, choked sobs escaping her lips instead of words after a few unsuccessful attempts to talk.

Again, it pained me that I couldn't do something, like hug her, or kiss her forehead, sit with her until she fell back asleep, but it'd be too weird, and the thought wasn't even that appealing to me anyway. It was a spur of the moment, 'Nice Draco' sort of thing to think of. 

Instead, the only alternative option was to shuffle over to sit facing her and take hold of her wrists, swerving my head slightly so she couldn't avoid looking at me. "Granger. I can assure you, the worst of that lot are locked up and gone, and won't be getting out again for a very long time, if at all. Besides.. having you tried making a Dreamless Sleep potion?" that question had been nagging at my mind for a while now. Surely the brightest witch of her damned age would jump for joy at the chance to brew a potion on her own, with no professor barking insults and commands at her every thirty seconds. 

"I was initially going to buy one from Diagon Alley, but I thought- I stupidly thought that, since it worked when I was sleeping with someone - not in that way - I might've gotten over it completely. When they came back on the first night, I considered making one, but I don't have the ingredients, and I don't fancy the idea of spending the entirety of our Hogsmeade trip searching for potions. Especially if I get caught. I'll look weak." 

She sniffled, and it took every ounce of kindness in my body to avoid laughing at her utter stubbornness. Perhaps she noticed that I was stifling a chuckle, since I'm not the greatest actor in the world, I'll admit, but she didn't comment. For that I was thankful, since, if she confronted me, I undoubtedly would've snapped at her. That would've been a train wreck.

"Granger, look. I don't know a single sane wizard or witch who isn't still haunted by the Battle some way or another. It's only natural that the aftermath is worse for you, because you were caught up right in the middle of it. Heck, Hermione, not many people can say they had a word carved into their forearm by the craziest bitch on the planet and survived. But you can. The nightmares are just... a temporary side effect." An idea popped into my head, and although I debated brushing it aside almost instantly after, I eventually excused myself and hurried into my bedroom, returning not long after with a small piece of card.

"Is-" sniffle. "-is that the chocolate frog card you got the other day?" I gave her a lopsided smile and nodded, showing her the photo of her looking particularly shaken up, but still the determined, stubborn ass Gryffindork I know. Damn that Gryffindork.

"See what I mean? You got your own chocolate frog card. Pretty sure Dumbledore, the old bat, said once that having one was his greatest achievement." I reached out awkwardly and handed it to her so she could inspect it more closely, inwardly cursing myself in case she didn't give it back, for reasons I couldn't even begin to imagine. "You're only... what, 18?"

"19 in two weeks." She said pointedly, grabbing a tissue and dabbing at her eyes with them, so she was less.... soggy. She looked a little like a cabbage patch doll with bloated eyes, but, obviously, I didn't say that out loud.

"Exactly. Pretty sure Dumbledore was alive to see fucking Jesus' birth. You have so much ahead of you, I guess. So a little trauma is worth it, don't you think? I know I want the position of Head Boy more than anything else in the world, at the moment. Even if it means I have to tolerate your constant nagging and whining." I was being serious, evidently, but the girl crouched in front of me let out a sort of choked half-laugh, which made her sound a little like she was trying to cough up a popcorn kernel, but, again, I kept this to myself.

Merlin's saggy left ball sack, I was making progress.

"Thank you, Malfoy. I... didn't expect any of that, I'll admit. Maybe you're not as big of an asshole as I originally presumed." When she shot me a smile, it seemed half-hearted, almost miserable, but I decided against pushing her any further, lest she feel to overwhelmed and snap at me.

Instead, I merely nodded, finally propelling myself off the floor and I was just about to pass through the doorway into my room when I paused, lingering for a brief fraction of a second.

"And, don't worry. I have nightmares too."

After that, I left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HERMIONE

Why Malfoy suddenly found it in his heart to actually comfort me, I'll never know, but the one thing I was certain of was that I wasn't completely repulsed by his sudden lack of cruelty. Of course, I'd likely never go straight to him if I had a dilemma again in the near future, but, as he said, he was all I had there and then, even if his name was Draco Malfoy. 

The late night conversation replayed itself over and over in my head for the next week, which was either down to me being so utterly dumbfounded at his instant change of intentions or the fact that we didn't speak a word to each other since. You'd think that after we had such a private - for him, anyway - little 'confession session' in the bathroom, things would improve for us, but no. If anything, he'd stopped speaking to me completely, whether his words be insults or not, and I wasn't sure whether I found that satisfying or disturbing.

The next Tuesday evening, though (precisely seven days after our conversation) he greeted me as I entered our common room after classes, since he was already there, as if he'd been waiting for a while. I wasn't in the mood for his games, though, quite frankly. 

I was almost positive that he was well prepared to pull something due to the 'payback' I gave to him by conversing with Theodore Nott, so after I merely nodded at him as a less friendly way of saying 'hello', I made my way to the round table in the corner and dragged a book for a History of Magic assignment out of my bag. I say 'dragged' because I'm 99% sure that I vastly resembled a Hobbit trying to heave a boulder up onto that damned table, since I had intellect but not much strength, really. 

When I finally found the page I was last on when revising, I continued from then, trying my hardest to pretend that I didn't know Malfoy was watching me intently, and to avoid thinking of all the possible reasons why.

"Granger? Granger? GRANGER?!" Okay, so, apparently, said reason was that he'd been calling my name for several minutes, and I'd been too engrossed in the page to notice

"Uh, sorry, what do you want, Malfoy?"

"Just- dear god, can't you shut your bloody book for one second? Your nose has been magically superglued to it all week. You'd think it was an extra body part, or something."

Scoffing, I bookmarked the page since I figured that we'd be arguing for a while and closed the book, clasping my hands together. "In case you haven't noticed, ferret, you're a close second to me in all of our classes. How can my constant studying possibly irritate you any more than doing it yourself does?"

"I wasn't complaining abo-"

"Like hell you weren't. I've known you for eight, almost nine years, Malfoy, I know exactly what sort of remark you're likely to come out with." I couldn't help it. Truly, I couldn't. As much as I loathed the idea of blowing everything completely myself, whether he was the one preparing to insult me or not, I still had tonnes of pent up anger from almost a decade of being bullied and teased that I'd never really had the chance to get out, and as much as I hate to admit it, it felt good to knock him down a peg or two.

"You know what the tragic part is?" I continued, the volume of my voice increasing with every word, "I thought that, especially after what McGonagall said we had to do, there'd be a chance for us to mend our past mistakes and get over our damn feud, but I can see that's never going to happen.

"One night, Malfoy. For one night, you were... understanding. Almost sweet. And then you leave me hanging for a whole week after, wondering what brought on this sudden change of heart and why you never showed any damned kindness before then. Am I the problem? Are you still so thoroughly repulsed by me that you thought you'd dip a toe in the water to see how cold it was, but it was freezing so instead of pulling yourself together and diving in, you completely avoided it. 'It' being me. I- I can't believe this." 

A scarlet tinge began to creep across the pallid complexion of Draco Malfoy, hinting at the anger bubbling inside of him - even when I'd punched him squarely in the face in third year, he hadn't seemed this infuriated. My hands began to tremble, and I rose from my chair hurriedly, making my way towards my open bedroom door before it slammed shut right in front of me. I spun around, to see Malfoy gripping his wand so tightly his knuckles were turning white, the colour almost as shockingly bright as that on his cheeks.

"Really, Granger? That's pathetic, and low, even for you. You think I've been ignoring you because I realised what a foul little swot you are? Honestly, you're supposed to be the brightest witch of your age and I've seen chairs with more brain cells than you."

"Excuse m-"

"I'm not finished. For the past nine years I've been nothing but cruel to you, and maybe it's my fault, maybe it's down to my upbringing - I don't know - but the one month that I try to change my ways and improve myself as a person, I'm the bad guy? Even I thought you were better than that."

"Can you blame me? You and your family were partially responsible for me making my parents forget about me. I had to protect them from the likes of you, so excuse me if I'm still wary."

That made him shut up, but I was unaware of whether he thought I had a point or he was simply focusing all his energy on not shrieking at me. To my intense disappointment, the latter option was the case, and he pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it onto the round table before he headed straight for his room. 

"What... what's this?" I asked, voice wavering from the sudden change in tone and volume. A look of pure bitterness swallowed his regular features, and he scowled, shaking his head. 

"Why? Scared I have a dementor hidden in there, well prepared to jump out and devour your soul?" I'm not sure whether it was his words or the scoff that followed it that punctured a larger hole in my heart, but I didn't have time to dwell over it, because he carried on.

"I managed to sneak into a storage closet and snag all of the ingredients necessary to make a Dreamless Sleep potion. I grabbed double the original amount, in case you run out. That's what I wanted you for, for the record. In case you were wondering," his final sentence was practically oozing with sarcasm, before he disappeared into his bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him. I peered into the bag, biting my lip regretfully, and discovered that he spoke the truth.

It wasn't his former insults that pained me, now. It was the fact that he didn't just have nightmares, he lived them every day, and I'd only intensified it instead of helping like he'd helped me.

               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DRACO

"What in Merlin's name are you trying to achieve by doing this, may I ask?"

"You may not." The brunette crouched in the same position she was huddled in last time I came across her in the bathroom huffed, silently refusing to avoid my gaze.

"I gave you the required ingredients to make a potion. Why haven't you taken it? Or are you that stubborn that you're refusing to use things I steal for you, too?"

"It's not that." She stressed the last word, indicating to me that there was more to come, so I waited patiently, cocking an inquisitive eyebrow. "I'm just... I'm scared that I'll mess it up." Upon seeing me scoff, she rolled her eyes, an quickly added, "my head's all over the place, Malfoy, alright? Harry and Ron aren't here, I'm forever haunted by bad memories instead of... I don't know, making good ones, and I'm worried that all hell will break loose again some day or another. I can't concentrate in class so I keep ruining things-"

"Granger, are you kidding me?" I cut her off with an uncontrollable outburst, shifting uncomfortably on the floor. "I had Voldemort himself coming to my home every day. I've seen murder, torture and been asked to do both myself. If I ever stepped a toe out of line, I would suffer far more than the consequences I'd faced years ago. For fuck's sake, Granger, you saved the world. You need to acknowledge that. I was one of the people threatening to ruin it, and I'm relatively fine."

I only mildly regretted my words after I'd said them, due to the look of utter hurt that crossed her face, and the fact that I spat it all out not even thirty seconds into a conversation instead of slowly easing it in, but other than that, all I wanted was for what I said to actually dawn on her - make her realise it wasn't all bad.

I knew that verbal aid wouldn't put her nightmares to an end. She had to seek some other form of comfort herself for that to happen. All I was doing was giving her a slight push in that direction, making sure she knew that everything would improve if only she gave it time. 

The fact that I was trying to help a mudblood with her issues was beyond me. Sure, I expected to change myself, but not this much this soon, and especially not with Granger. 

The only solution was that... I understood, I supposed. Better than I ever thought I had. We'd both strived to protect our parents when they were in danger - I took the dark mark to save their lives, and Granger erased their memories of her. We're both haunted consistently by the actions we'd carried out and witnessed in our paths, although, I'll admit, most magic folk can relate to that. Not only that, but we both wanted to prove something - I wanted to prove that I can change for the better, and she apparently returned to school so she could prove that titles aren't everything, and she can earn a future on her own. Or, at least, that's what I heard.

And, more importantly, I had nobody. No real friends - aside from Blaise and Pansy - who truly understood and cared for me. Granger's two best friends had disappeared and left her to her own devices, so now there were very few people who accepted her for her personality, not her heroic status.

I wasn't sure whether this was something that'd always been there that I simply didn't see before or our similarities had just sprung up since the war, but either way, they were there. Bold and clear.

But no, our alikeness couldn't be my reason for being so... so kind to her. Maybe it's because, at that point, I was used to the concept of having to get along with her to keep my title. That was it. I'd figured it out. At long last, an adequate explanation.

Yet if that was so, why did it feel so much more intense than that?

"Right." The Gryffindor's remarkably softly toned voice cut through my thoughts like a bread knife, as she rose from the floor, clutching the sink to hold herself up. Whether that was due to exhaustion, or the fear that she'd begin to cry and needed at least something to hold onto so she wouldn't collapse in misery again, I was unsure. "No, you're right. I think." 

Instead of gratitude, though, her voice held a hint of bewilderment, and before I had chance to ask why, she continued, answering my question before I could speak it aloud. "What I don't understand is... why, now, have you decided to treat me like another person? And why me? I ask that, because I haven't seen your attitude change so drastically with anybody else."

"You're the person I've had the largest impact on. Sure, I taunted Potter relentlessly, but if anything, I think that was a little reassuring for him at times - looking back at it now, I mean - since it was a reminder that not everybody wanted to bow down and kiss his feet."

"Ah, right. Because the most powerful dark wizard alive wasn't enough to make him acknowledge that." she retorted sarcastically, making me emit a sort of half-hearted chuckle.

"You know what I mean. But, my insults to you, calling you a Mudblood, putting your down because of your blood status constantly... it was unnecessary."

"Sometimes I like to think you were jealous of me. Of my intelligence, or whatever. Not to sound egotistical, or anything. My Mum used to always tell me that if a boy likes you or a certain aspect of you, he'll tease you constantly. Of course, you could never like me, but..." the girl trailed off when she saw my baffled expression, jaw dropping so far down it could've very well hit the bottom of the tower.

"Okay, I'm trying to be nice and honest, but that's going wayyy too far. Me? Jealous? Of you? The mere thought of it has me cracking up, really, I'm pissing myself laughing. I'd never be jealous of you, Granger, not in a million years. What do you have to be jealous of?" I stood up then, brushing myself off in case a little dust had gathered on my pyjama bottoms. I didn't want a sneezing fit when I went back to bed, really. 

"Whatever, Malfoy." she rubbed her eyes and yawned, then, seemingly so vulnerable in her exhausted state, and an idea that I never would've even considered a year or two ago popped into my head.

"So, about this Dreamless Sleep Potion..." I began, and she met my gaze, a puzzled expression washing over her face. "You wouldn't have the instructions on how to brew it anywhere, by any chance, would you?"

 

              ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

HERMIONE

"'Mione, no, slow down. You mean to tell me that - Draco Malfoy, Slytherin's ruddy bloody prince and the one student who's taunted you mercilessly for the entirety of your magical education, stayed up all night to brew a potion for you?"

"Well, it wasn't all night. And I gave him some of the potion, just in case he ever needed it himself." I protested, glancing sideways for fear of anybody listening in on our conversation. We were in our Muggle Studies class, and since the new professor mustn't have been engrossed enough in the idea of teaching to actually do it, we had a little spare time to kill, hence I informed Ginny about my run-in with Malfoy the previous night. 

My words of reassurance seemed to go right over her head, though, since she still seemed totally bewildered.

"Oh dear God, imagine how Harry and Ron would totally freak? I can't wait to hear their responses when I-"

"Gin, no!" I spluttered, perhaps a little too loudly, for even Dean and Seamus glanced over from their own private little conversation.

"What? Why not? Harry said Hogwarts is awfully boring, now, and I want to prove him wrong! This is perfect!"

"If anybody ever wants to know what Rita Skeeter sounded like in her youth, I'll be sure to point them right towards you." I remarked, closing the book I was scanning after making several unsuccessful attempts to glance at the words between my strings of sentences to Ginny. It turned out that I'd been reading the exact same spot for the past five minutes, though, so there was no point in trying to study.

"Besides, Gin... It's Malfoy. I don't think I've ever seen him so caring, towards anybody, let alone me. It's not only for my benefit, I just- I don't know. I feel like it'd be a total waste if I exposed his efforts to the whole wizarding world and pretty much humiliated him, because he'd be discouraged from improving himself. It could make a difference for his future, you know? And even if it's Malfoy, as long as I'm ensuring that somebody changes their life for the better... so be it."

"Touching words, 'Mione. Shakespeare is quaking." The redhead stated, sarcasm practically oozing from her voice, and I rolled my eyes. 

"I'm being serious. How many times have you wanted to smack him in the face for making little snide digs at you for being a Weasley?"

"Not as often as I thought I would in my first year. Hearing about your punch was satisfying enough to reduce my need to do it myself. But... I suppose you have a point. I won't say anything. But if this doesn't work, and he's still an insufferable git, I will hex you."

"I have no doubt about that." I giggled at Ginny's 'stern' expression, poking her lightly with the tip of my quill. Much to the dismay of Ron when the family were together at the burrow, his little sister was still undisputedly perfect at casting the bat-bogey hex, and whether that was down to natural talent or practicing weekly on her brothers, I'd never know.

"Sooooo... don't look now, but why is Theodore Nott staring at you like some lovesick puppy?" Naturally, as any other curious human would do, I turned around and glanced at the spot he had a tendency to sit in when Gryffindors had Muggle Studies with Slytherins, and sure enough, his eyes were fixed on me. When my gaze fell on his, he offered a hand and waved it casually, as if I hadn't just caught him practically hypnotised.

"I don't know. Maybe he's just doing that thing you do. Stare off into space and accidentally find that the spot you were focusing on is a person." I suggested, turning back to scribble a bit of meaningless information that I already knew onto a piece of parchment, so it didn't look like I was as uninterested in the lesson as I actually was.

"Oh, no, 'Mione, you don't understand. That was my excuse for whenever you caught me staring at Harry. You know? There was a stage in my life in which I was completely infatuated with him." Her cheeks blushed darkly to match her hair at her own words, but instead of directly responding to her statement, I cleared my throat.

"His eyes are as green as a fresh-pickled toad-" I began, but was quickly cut off by her squealing and clamping a hand over my mouth.

"Don't you bring that up!" She hissed, somewhat resembling her mother in that moment exactly more than she ever had. "And don't try to change the subject, either. Since when had the two of you ever even spoken before? He looks as though he has some deep, irrevocable desire to throw you onto a desk and-"

"Ginny!" I spluttered, glancing over my shoulder to make sure he hadn't heard anything. I sighed in relief as I noticed that he'd turned to converse with another Slytherin boy, instead, and seemed to interested in their discussion to notice ours. 

"What? I'm only stating the truth. Can't you see the way he was looking at you?" She asked pointedly, and I opened my mouth to contradict her but closed it again, realising that her words weren't too far from the truth. Of course, I doubted he liked me, but I'd assumed that he'd be one of those people I merely nodded to in the hallways and helped out every once in a while. He clearly had other plans.

"C'mon, Gin. I'll talk to him about it later on. I've gotta help him study anyways, he asked me to give him a couple of tips. Obviously, I obliged." I shrugged, expecting an eye roll from my younger friend and finding myself rather surprised when I received a raised eyebrow instead.

"What, like a booty tutor?"

"Ginny!"

"Sorry, sorry." She waved her words away as if they'd just appeared in a little bubble in front of her as she said them, instead adding, "but, seriously, you might want to be careful with him. I've heard that he's bad news." she paused, before continuing hastily, "so has the majority of the school. Heck, no, most of the wizarding world. But you're a smart girl, Hermione. You'll be careful, right?"

"Why is everybody so worried about me spending time with Theo? He's a person, too, for crying out loud." I sighed in exasperation, shaking my head to indicate that it didn't matter when the youngest Weasley asked who else had complained.

"It's not that I don't know for sure whether or not you can take care of yourself, but... what if you grow attracted to him, and you get your heart broken? Remember last time?"

My blood ran cold, then, and I scoffed. "I'm not going to fall in love with Theodore bloody Nott, Ginevra. He's a friend. Not even that, more of an acquaintance. So leave it alone." I hissed through my teeth, for the professor had finally decided to stop fiddling with his wand and verbally teach us something.

I didn't need to take Muggle Studies. Really, I didn't. If I was a known intellectual in the Wizarding world, a large area of life I hadn't been introduced to until I was eleven years old, then of course I'd be well-educated on all aspects of the Muggle world. But it was one extra subject I could pass to give me that boost towards having a career I loved and a fulfilled life, two of my most vivid and consistent dreams, so even if it wasted a little of my time, I truly didn't mind.

One thing I didn't know for sure was why Theo was suddenly acting so close to me. I was almost certain that he was one of the Slytherin's who'd purposely shove past me in a barely crowded hallway, just to see me scowl. Then again, I didn't really keep the names of those Slytherins. Malfoy had always been the reigning king of the snakes, so it was him I'd always had to be aware of.

Maybe ferret-face was right. I ought to be wary. But, at the same time, he seemed like any other regular Hogwarts student. What could possibly go wrong?

              
                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

DRACO

You'd have to be completely blind to miss Nott's eyes glued to Granger like she was Merlin himself.

Pansy says I'm jealous, and quite frankly, I'd never even dream of being jealous of Theodore stinking Nott. He was everything I'd always feared that I'd become. Arrogant, egotistical, bastardly and possibly the most undisputedly evil 18-year-old I'd ever come across.

But there was something off about the way he was looking at her. He appeared to be fascinated with her, or, if I didn't know better, in love with her. It was like he was pouring all the love in his heart - which wasn't a lot - out right in front of her, for her, and she just smiled at him for it. How many goddamned times had I told her that he was dangerous, and there she was, positively beaming at him like he was a saint.

That bastard.

Dear Merlin, why did McGonagall have to force all Slytherin students to take Muggle Studies? Just because we were bloody prejudiced at some point, that doesn't mean some of us are allowed to stare at bookworms and manipulate them into thinking they're the greatest person alive. 

The whole situation is why I found myself charging right up to the Slytherin common room after classes instead of Granger and I's shared Head dormitories. If I couldn't convince her to stay away, perhaps I could threaten him until he did the same. Sure, I'd made a silent vow to myself to change my ways, and although McGonagall was forcing me to get along with Granger this would surely cause an argument, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Nott." I hissed, spotting him almost instantly in the most secluded corner of the common room, Astoria Greengrass sitting on his bloody lap. Ugh. PDA disturbed me now more than ever, especially since I'd just seen Nott showing said affection. I'd once thought he was incapable of love, and I will stand by my previous assumptions, which only meant that he felt lust for Astoria. Poor, poor girl. We'd been friends, once - I think. Never as close as I was with Pansy, or Blaise, but even so, she deserved far better than this rodent.

"Ahh, Draco. Come join. We were just having a nice little chat about you." He flashed me some sort of grin that had more resemblance to a sneer than a smile, and I rolled my eyes with as much emphasis as possible. 

"Actually, I'd rather if we spoke alone. Wouldn't want to upset your little girlfriend, would we?" I inquired sarcastically, shooting a half-hearted glare at the female on top of him. 'You'll make your real friends' my arse. This was betrayal at its finest.

"Sure. Tori, do me a favour and go wait for me in my dorm. I'll be up there soon."

Obliging instantly, she rose from her chair, but not before drawing him close and positively kissing the life out of him. I grimaced and glanced away, suddenly finding the wooden floor incredibly intriguing. 

"Hey, Drake?" My head snapped up to meet the eyes of Astoria, who'd clearly finished with their little make-out session since she was now standing frighteningly close to me, and she placed a hand on my shoulder, leaning in to whisper in my ear. 

"In case you wanted to know... Theo isn't my boyfriend." she breathed, pulling away to wink lustily at me. It took every ounce of strength in my body to not visibly shudder and gag at her words, and instead I managed an apathetic nod, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"I didn't want to know. Nor do I care. Goodbye." I stated coldly, before heading over to sit in the seat that faced Nott and attempting to ignore the look of disgust that crossed her face at my blunt rejection.

"So, blondie... what is it you wanted to talk with me about?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the table and plastering a smug grin on his face which told me that he knew exactly why I was there.

"What the hell are you planning to do with Granger, hm? Because if your goal is to manipulate her into practically worshipping you just so you can surpass me in terms of being Head Boy, then all your little tricks will never work. She's smarter than that." I hissed, my fist clenched so hard that my fingernails were drawing blood from my palms. I hardly noticed, though. It was a mere tickle compared to some other pain I'd endured in my lifetime.

"Who told you I was trying to manipulate? I'm trying to communicate with other house members. Expand my horizons. What better place to start than with the reigning Lioness of the Gryffindors, hm?" 

"Bullshit." I spat, slamming my hand down on the table and miraculously not totally smearing it with blood. "You're trying to get to her to get to me."

"Why would getting to her possibly have any negative impact on me, hm? She's nothing special, a worthless... a worthless mudblood." I visibly winced at the word, and, to my utter dismay, the other boy noticed this, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, please. You can't honestly tell me that you still loathe her. I can tell you're positively aching to befriend her, to let everyone know you're good, perfect wickle Drakie-poo now... but that won't happen, if I get to her first."

"Is that a confession?"

Nott scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You really thought I'd converse with a mudblood without an ulterior motive? You're even more stupid than I initially thought. I'm still slightly surprised that you aren't vomiting at the sight of such filth every morning. Although, you always were the weaker one, weren't you?"

"Oh, and by 'weak' I presume you mean not up Voldemort's ass 24/7?"

His expression darkened considerably at my words, but he laughed it off nevertheless, leaning back somewhat comfortably in his chair.

"Funny. Now, I suggest that you leave whatever I have in store for your little girlfriend up in the Head tower to me. It's my business."

"But you're trying to end me-"

"Oh for god's sake, I'm plotting against you, not with you!" the brunet opposite me snapped, shaking his head in irritation. Despite knowing he was much more capable of darker things than I'd ever been, the looks on his face whenever I rebelled against me were priceless. I'd pay all the galleons in my possession at Gringotts just to snap a photo of it, frame it and hang it on my wall. It was just a shame that I didn't have the opportunity to quarrel with him as often as I'd originally hoped, because maybe then he wouldn't bug me all the time.

"Whatever, Theo." I mocked, snickering a little at the nickname, my grin only widening when he flushed slightly red. "Either way, you and I both know you're never going to win. It's you against me, Granger and god knows how many other people. You don't stand a chance."

"You're so oblivious. I pity you, really, I do." My face dropped slightly at this, but only briefly, as I hastily continued to maintain a stone-cold facade.

"Oblivious to what? Because even an imbecile could read you right away like an open book." I gestured to his forehead, feigning concern. "I think it's the way you always furrow you eyebrows. You look half constipated, half wannabe criminal mastermind. And there's not much more to you than both of the above, I can assure you that."

He jumped up from his chair, then, and grabbed my shirt, hauling me upwards and bringing my face close to his, anger flashing in his eyes. He was pissed.

My bad.

"You know what? I'm surprised that the Dark Lord didn't execute you from the very beginning. You're pathetic. You can throw a few insults, yes, win a duel with somebody your age, yes, but you wanna know what I heard off Dolohov? When you were instructed to kill our incompetent, goody-two-shoes bloody Headmaster, you cried. That's not showing much strength, now, is it?"

Ah, crap. Always knew Dolohov was a right bag of shit. This was only solid proof. 

The matter at hand was more serious, though, and the fact that I was currently avoiding Nott's gaze was only boosting his ego further. 

"You wouldn't understand. Has your life ever been threatened?"

"Oh, yeah, loads of times. But I'm not a total wuss, and nor do I wear my tears like an armour, Drakie-poo. You, on the other hand..." he trailed off, scoffing, and I practically growled in response.

"Shut your mouth. Besides - weaknesses or not, it's one man against god knows how many others. You'll fail, undoubtedly."

At this, he laughed, finally letting go of my shirt since he'd grabbed a fistful a couple of minutes ago. Before he even had chance to speak, I could sense that he was planning something serious. Whether it was his expression or a mere gut instinct, I felt a series of heavy pangs inside me, which only intensified by a particularly large degree when I actually heard the string of sentences that escaped his lips.

"Who said I'm the only person in on the plan?"

 

 

A/N: sooooo, what d'ya think? Any ideas on who Theodore's conspiring with?? Lemme knOw! Please drop a comment and/or a vote, it'd really mean a lot!


	4. I Bet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I've decided that my chapters are too wordy and lengthy so I'm going to shorten them to about 4000-5000 words instead of around 8000, if that's okay? Once you've finished this chapter, if you decide that you preferred longer lengths, please comment back here! But until then, enjoy reading, and PLEASE vote while you're here? Thank you!

DRACO

If I'd known how time-consuming being Head Boy would be, I would've given up my badge to Professor McGonagall in the train compartment right there and then, without requesting any other solutions to my unfair earning of the role. Of course, now, though, I was aware that if I gave up, Nott would be given his golden opportunity to brainwash and manipulate the prefects and potentially the entire school.

It'd been three damned weeks since our return to Hogwarts, and my previously possessed quantity of free time had been drained like a grape in its transformation to become a bloody raisin - and myself and Granger weren't even required to begin preparing for the Halloween Ball yet. From being asked to supervise some detentions to organising Quidditch matches whenever Madame Hooch was preoccupied with teaching classes (naturally, I made the first and last games of the year to be Gryffindor vs Slytherin, so we could make a dramatic winning entrance and exit), we held most of the responsibility in the school, and heck, didn't people know it.

Students would take any spare opportunity to whine at me about any issues, request help for the pettiest, simplest dilemmas, and a couple even begged me to tutor them. I wasn't sure whether I'd grown bushy hair and gained a cluster of freckles overnight to give the impression that I enjoyed doing even my own schoolwork, but the groaning often directed at me was starting to piss me off. To the point, in fact, where I had a tendency to contemplate giving up on the whole idea of self-improvement and screeching in the faces of third years.

On the bright side, though, our duties gave me numerous chances to taunt Granger in private - not cruelly, like I'd used to, but teasingly. Like always, she'd simply scoff and shoot an insult right back at me, but this only encouraged me to continue.

However, despite the sense of satisfaction I felt whenever she snapped back with a witty retort, I preferred subtly irritating her when we were supervising detentions. Then, she'd be forced to suppress any urge to fire back at me, since she really wasn't the best at being discreet and the rule was to be kind in public, and I'd, essentially, get the last laugh.

Two Hufflepuff third years were perched in the corner, picking up a trophy to polish every now and then and sighing heavily at their punishment. 

"D'you know why they're here?" I inquired in a whisper, breaking the silence that'd fallen over us as we sat on a desk, Granger reading - surprise, surprise - and I, myself, doing... absolutely nothing. 

"Perhaps I do." She huffed in response, furrowing her brow though she never dragged her gaze away from the page.

"Wow, how vague. Never be an auror. 'Miss Granger, please give a detailed description of the bad man you were pursuing all day.' 'Most certainly, Mr Minister. The criminal was dark-haired and looked pretty angry.' How would anybody know whether you're talking about a death eater or an Acromantula."

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy, you prick." The brunette hissed in response, and I rolled my eyes, tutting disappointedly at her.

"Now, princess, you know the Headmistress demanded that we be nice to one another in front of other people. Look where we are." I gestured with one hand to the duo sitting a mere few feet away from us, and although they seemed to be paying absolutely no attention whatsoever, a faint blush still appeared on her cheeks.

"Princess? What the hell, Malfoy? Aren't you defeating your whole purpose in life? Making mine a living hell?"

"People are declaring that you're their Gryffindor bloody Princess. I'm mocking you, not worshipping you. Don't get your hopes up." I stated, and, when sensing a golden opportunity, I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively and added, "there are certain other things I'd be happy to worship you for, though, if you know what I mean."

"You're such a pig, Malfoy." Was all she responded with, before she returned to the book in her hand titled Jane Eyre.

"...Well?"

"Well what?"

"What are the Hufflepuffs here for?" I retorted in a hushed whisper, rolling my eyes and eagerly awaiting her answer.

"Why do you want to know so badly?"

"Are you kidding me? I have nothing better to do than sit and watch a couple of halfwits scrub trophies that are already perfectly clean. A little entertainment wouldn't hurt, don't you think?"

"Malfoy, the purpose of their lives isn't to entertain you."

"It should be, Granger, because you are dreadfully boring."

Pause. I shot her a sideways glance to see that she was flicking at the corners of the pages in her book absently, seemingly lost in thought. 

"If I tell you," she began, and my face instantly lit up, "will you stop bothering me?"

"I guess so."

"Fine. PDA."

"What? Since when did students receive detention for snogging one another?"

"Since it was in the middle of what was supposed to be their Transfiguration class, and it was in the kitchens. Some of the house elves declared that their saliva was contaminating the food, so I can only assume that it was rather... messy."

Another golden opportunity. "Granger, have you ever been in detention, aside from that one time in third year?"

"I thought you said you'd stop bothering me."

"I said I guess. Looks like I guessed wrong. That's a first."

Another pause.

"Do I seem like the sort of person to earn detentions, Malfoy?"

"No."

Silence.

"So it wouldn't impact you if you earned just one teeny tiny detention?"

"No..."

"And you wouldn't mind if we sucked a bit of face ourselves?"

The book that she was once holding in her hands clattered to the floor, and she shot a glare at me, scoffing. "Really, Malfoy? Mature. Stop teasing me, it's frankly rather irritating. Plus, we have to get along."

"In public, Granger. And, the last time I checked, Tweedledee and Tweedledum aren't paying the slightest bit of attention to either of us." I stated matter-of-factly, nodding my head towards the two oblivious boys. "Which strikes me as odd, because I'm incredibly good-looking, and who wouldn't want to stare at my perfectly chiselled face all day?"

"Would it be considered rude if I volunteered myself to fit that description?" the brunette hissed, and picked up her novel, though she didn't even bother to open it again and she placed it on the desk beside her.

"Definitely. It's not kind to tell lies."

"I'm going to jinx you."

"Ooh, I'm so scared, I think I even just peed a little. You're so terrifying, I ought to start calling you Granger Danger."

"Please, Malfoy. You aren't afraid of me, and we both know it."

"Oh, yeah? That punch you fired at me in third year tells me otherwise. Why couldn't you have shown a Public Display of Affection, instead of a Public Display of Anger. That form of PDA doesn't hurt as much. You might wanna take some advice from these two lads." I paused and winced visibly, reaching up to cradle my own face. "I don't think my nose ever actually returned to its original shape."

"It looks fine to me, Malfoy, I couldn't have had much of a lasting effect on you."

The Gryffindor sucked in a breath, and I smirked. She knew she'd messed up.

"You think my nose looks fine? Well, you should see the rest of me. I bet you're dying to."

"You know, Malfoy, sometimes I'm positive that you try to flirt with me so despicably because you're trying to make your heart grow a little, and you can't be directly cruel if you want that to happen."

"Spot on, Granger. Except... I'd never flirt with you. I simply enjoy seeing your flushed cheeks and stuttery, defensive reactions. It's extremely amusing."

"I'm glad my embarrassment is entertaining for you."

By this time, the two students had almost polished every trophy in the cupboard twice over, and they were now taking the opportunity to not-so-subtly eavesdrop on our conversations. I checked the watch that'd been passed down to me from my grandfather. It was almost ten minutes until we were allowed to dismiss them, but they really were getting on my nerves, and they could go ahead and snog each other senseless again whilst they had some free time. Who was I to stand in the way of two sickly sweet lovebirds?

"Go on. Scram. Skedaddle. Your presence is no longer required, you're free to go. Don't miss me too much." I drawled, and both boys wasted no time in grabbing the cloaks they'd discarded a while ago, disappearing from the room as if I'd begun firing endless hexes at them and they feared for their lives.

"Why'd you let them go, Malfoy?"

"Why? Scared I'm not responsible, now? Ooh, I let two students out of detention early, what deadly deed will I do next?"

Granger blinked sceptically at me, seeming rather bewildered. "No, they missed a whole shelf of trophies. They'll be punished some more if Filch finds out."

"Ah, shit, oh well."

"Malfoy!" She shrieked, and I yelped at the sudden change in her tone, very nearly falling off the desk.

"Granger!"

"Don't mock me. What happened to trying to change? Those two will get into more trouble."

I hesitated. I could either a) ignore Granger, defeat the whole purpose of me coming back to Hogwarts in the first place, and get two innocent students into trouble (which was really my specialty, but still) or b) I could stay behind, finish what the Hufflepuffs couldn't and take the whole situation as an opportunity to tease Granger.

I quite liked option b.

"You know what?" I asked with a smug grin, jumping down from the desk. "I don't think it'd hurt if we polished the last couple of trophies ourselves. It won't take long, and it's not really as if you have a life or anything."

"Haha. That's hilarious, Malfoy, really, you're a comedian."

"I was being serious, princess."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HERMIONE

Enduring those three hours of boredom weren't quite as torturous as I'd previously imagined it to be. I mean, sure, I'd read Jane Eyre only a million times so I wasn't paying much attention to the book in the first place, and I was forced to sit beside Malfoy for all 180 minutes, but he hadn't poked fun at me quite as much as he used to.

His speciality, now, appeared to be fake flirting in a desperate attempt to annoy me without doing anything particularly mean, so he wouldn't have his Head Boy badge stripped from him. Obviously I'd tried my hardest to simply ignore him, but he had a way with words that only made me want to bicker with him more.

That really wasn't healthy, if our aim was to get along at least in front of other students and professors. If we stood by and argued constantly in private, that'd only create tension between us in public.

Unless he didn't take it to heart, and he was trying to lightly tease me with his comments instead of full-on bullying. In that case, my time spent with him due to Head Girl duties could be made tolerable, and almost enjoyable.

Almost.

We'd returned to our tower together wordlessly, hardly doing as much as glancing at each other every now and then. Why this was, I had no idea, since I'd expected him to start up with the taunting again. Apparently not. I wasn't sure if I was thankful for that or rather disappointed, since I'd rather he irritate me than we walk for ten minutes in silence.

When we finally headed inside, I speed-walked straight to my room and closed the door quietly behind me - but avoiding making much noise didn't really make much of a difference, because I turned around and shrieked at the sight of the person sitting in the armchair beside my bed. 

"I'm not that ugly, am I, 'Mione?"

"Harry!" I yelled, sprinting over and flinging my arms around his neck the moment he rose from his chair. "What are you doing here so early?"

"It's been three whole weeks, I don't think we've ever been apart for that long. How are you? Anything interesting going on?"

"Not really." I shrugged, but I still beamed widely at my best friend. "I'm Head Girl, as you probably figured, and... is Ron here?"

"Ron? No. He wanted to stay behind. George is becoming a little more sociable, and he wanted to make the most of his brother's tolerance of Fred's... Fred's death." He hesitated, though, and I was certain that he wasn't telling the whole truth. His emerald orbs flickered down to the floor as he spoke, and even if his attitude was perfectly normal, there was no way that George was improving so quickly.

"Harry..."

"'Mione?"

"Tell me the truth?"

"Who's Head Boy, by the way? I'm glad I didn't come back, I know Professor McGonagall would hand the responsibility over to me. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely adore having people stalking me in the street in 'awe' and trying to pluck my hairs out to make a love potion for me, but I'm sort of done with being a war hero."

"Malfoy." I stated simply, wincing already in fear of his reaction.

"Sorry, what?"

"He's Head Boy."

"And frankly a lot more deserving of the title than you, Potty." Came a sneer from the doorway, and my gaze shot to meet the blonde's, my face dropping.

"Get out of my room."

"I'm not in it. See?" He gestured to his feet, which weren't past my door frame, and I gritted my teeth, desperately suppressing the urge to punch him again.

"Bugger off, Malfoy. Ignore him, 'Mione. We're going to catch up in the common room whether he likes it or not."

"Well, if you're doing that, I'd much rather spend time with my fellow Slytherins than you snobby do-gooders."

"You'd be doing us a favour, Malfoy." I snapped, rolling my eyes and glancing back at Harry.

"Whatever. See you, Pothead. And until next time, princess." The pureblood shot a wink at me and I scowled, shaking my head at the raven-haired boy beside me so he'd know he was merely being a foul git and didn't need to be questioned about his choice of nickname for me.

"Shove it, Malfoy."

And he was gone.

"Right, Harry... come on, sit down. I'm so excited to hear about your adventures in your new job."

"It's just training, 'Mione, really-"

"Harry. As much as I love my education, I have to endure the constant whining of our new potions professor and students to whom I'm forced to give detention. Even your training would be exciting for me to hear, now."

And so we talked for hours, Malfoy not even disturbing us once, to my pleasant surprise. Training or not, his experiences so far seemed either exhilarating or hilarious, and I found myself feeling peculiarly homesick. It was at around two in the morning that we discovered how late it was, and Harry had to be getting back to the burrow. I went to bed, then, perfectly content with my best friend's visit, but unable to shake the thought that Harry had either acted suspicious or hastily changed the subject whenever I asked the slightest question about Ron.

                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DRACO

My feet pounded against the stone floor in the torch-lit hallway of Hogwarts, my eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Stupid Saint Potter, waltzing in and kicking me out of my own dormitory. Who did he think he was, with his fancy brooms and perfect little war hero facade. If even half the people in the wizarding world saw how despicably basic he was, perhaps we'd all be in a much better position.

Of course, he hadn't physically or verbally remove me from the common room, but he might as well have done. He knew damn well I couldn't stand being in the same room as him. I thought Granger was bad enough. 

The only place available for me to go to was the Slytherin Common Room, which was bound to turn out badly. I could always hide away in the Room of Requirement like I used to tend to do, but I was afraid that being there would bring back memories I wasn't keen on revisiting, so I decided against that. 

So... the question was. Would I rather tolerate Nott in the company of Blaise, my best friend, or sit and have a nice cup of tea with Beaver and Pothead?

The former option it was, then.

Pansy gave me regular updates on the password for our dorm, and it took me a few seconds to think back to it, but once I recalled the latin phrase she'd told me I whispered it to the portrait, which quickly swung open and allowed me to crawl through.

It was hardly a surprise to see the majority of people in their fourth year and above dancing on tables and making out in corners as some wizard singer's voice emitted from a place I couldn't quite pinpoint. This always used to happen when I still stayed here. I was usually the one that initiated it.

"Draco! Glad you could join the party." The Italian's voice called over to me and I let out a sigh of relief, thankful that my gaze had fallen on somebody I actually liked. 

"Blaise. Where the hell is this music coming from, may I ask?"

"Hello to you too." He chuckled, seemingly not offended by my lack of proper greeting. "Some half-blood brought in this muggle contraption called an mp3 something-or-other, and it's proving quite handy. Nott is fuming that this little object from the muggle world is providing the entertainment, but he's trying his hardest not to show it. Watching him squirm is hilarious."

"Wouldn't I love to see that." I hissed, unable to suppress a smug grin. This house and blood purity unity thing going on after the Battle didn't bother me as much as I'd always expect it to, but apparently, Nott didn't feel the same way. That meant he was a dick about one thing that I wasn't. He really was out to get Granger. 

"Malfoy! So glad you could make it. It simply isn't the same here without you." The voice of the person I loathed drawled. I rolled my eyes and spun on my heel to face the demon, cocking an eyebrow.

"Oh, that's sweet of you. Although, I'm afraid to say that if you weren't here, your presence wouldn't be missed by anybody." I stated with a shrug, taking a step or two towards Theodore in what I knew (from past experiences) was a slightly intimidating manner.

"Really? I bet half the people in this room would beg to differ."

"They'd only beg to differ, Nott,  because they're afraid you might crucio them if they defy you."

"Aw, are you jealous that I have guts and you don't, Malfoy?"

"No, I'm disgusted that you're as comfortable with seeing organs pour out of your victim as you would be with seeing a slice of bread."

"Don't they mean the same thing?" He scoffed, and a shrill laugh that could've easily been a shriek of anguish at the same time erupted from Astoria Greengrass, who was clinging onto Nott's arm. 

"Oh, Theo, you're hilarious." she cooed, and he smirked, looking at me pointedly.

"I don't see any dedicated fans anywhere you, do I, Malfoy? Zabini's your only friend. Even Granger can't stand the sight of you. How is 'Mione, anyway?" He grinned, and I clenched my fist, fighting an almost irresistible urge to punch him squarely in the face. 

"Fine, now that you're not over there tarnishing her brain with all sorts."

Nott raised one eyebrow and whispered something to Astoria, who giggled and then turned to me with a disgusted scoff.

"What's so funny?" I hissed, and Nott's smirk only grew.

"Well, Tori and I are just astonished that you spend so much time with Granger, so close to her, and you've yet to make her swoon. Looks like you're not the nice bloke you claim you are, now, doesn't it?"

The term 'blood boiled' was incredibly overused in literature, in my opinion. Someone steals your ice cream? Your blood boils. Somebody's threatening to murder everybody close to you? Your blood boils. I never understood how you could physically feel your blood begin to bubble and heat up - until then, at least.

Despite what you might think, extreme anger wasn't my forte. People irritated me more than they did anger me. Even my father, who had a tendency to torture and hit and manipulate me, never infuriated me. I was more hurt when that happened, believe it or not.

But people have their limits. Severus bloody Snape was considered an angel compared to Theodore Nott, and here he was, declaring that I was still bitter? Evil? He was in no position to judge, and yet he was. 

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't just Nott. A cruel, twisted person like him wasn't allowed to impact me in such a way, not on my watch. But it was the whole wizarding world, and the fact that he wasn't the only person with that opinion, that really bugged me.

I'd tried my hardest to improve my poor reputation, and for what? For me to be judged and sneered at by everybody who knew my name?

So yes. My blood boiled. I felt my cheeks go from a relatively pale colour to a scorching red, and my whole body began to shake slightly in anger.

These past three weeks had no effect.

"How would you know what Granger thinks of me?"

"You don't look too positive that she likes you, either." He paused, and an idea seemingly popped into his head, because he nudged Astoria and grinned.

"Tell you what. Since you're so insistent that Granger doesn't hate your guts, and I beg to differ, we'll settle this the old way."

My face fell. I knew what the old way was. Hell, I'd practically invented it. It was usually nothing major, but this was Nott, of course he was going to make a bigger deal out of it than necessary. 

"I bet that from now until Halloween, you won't be able to either kiss Granger without her pulling away, or make her kiss you."

"Excuse me? That's just ridiculous. Now you're sinking to a new low. Me? Sexual involvement with a-" I couldn't find it in myself to say it, whether I was in front of Nott or not, until the memory of him mocking me came flooding back to me. "-a mudblood."

"Tsk tsk," he retorted, like I was a five year old child in need of some light discipline. "Don't let dearest 'Mione hear you say that. Would you like to lose the bet before it's even been made official?"

I frowned, mentally weighing out what little options I had, which were as follows; a) I participate in the bet, have Granger kiss me and irritate her some more whilst gaining the satisfaction of beating Theodore Nott, b) respect Granger, follow my plan (actually being a decent person) and therefore not lose the hopefully growing respect I've potentially earned from some of the wizarding world, or c) murder Nott, which will probably solve more problems than this one alone.

"I'll think about it." I stated finally, with a small defeated sigh. "You're an arse, Nott."

"As are you. Which is why I hoped you'd understand me a little better, Malfoy, but you've disappointed me."

"Aw, what a shame. I've got to blast, I need to wallow in a pit of self-despair whilst I read heartbreaking Shakespeare play scripts and bury my head in my pillow before crying myself to sleep."

"You're funny."

"I know."

"I need your answer by tomorrow morning. Or I might just make my move on your little Gryffindor friend."

"She's not my- deal. I'll meet you in the Great Hall at breakfast. You're going down, Theodore Nott."

"I'd like to see you try and make that happen, Draco Malfoy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time I arrived back at the Heads' quarters, it was a lot later than I hoped it'd be when I returned. I'd spent another hour or two discussing a few things with Blaise, though never directly asking for his opinion or guidance on the bet, since my pride got in the way of me ever doing that.

When I walked through the portrait door, I noticed almost instantly that the place was dark, aside from the flicker of the fire still faintly illuminating the common room. There was no sign of Potter, thankfully, but I couldn't see Granger anywhere either. 

Assuming that she'd already gone to bed, I headed straight for my own room, but tripped over something on my way there and thankfully caught myself before I fell and hit the ground. I picked up the object that'd been the cause of my incredibly unsophisticated moment, there, and discovered that it was a novel, titled 'Sense and Sensibility'. Typical.

It was then that I spotted her. Granger's sleeping form was huddled in an armchair, arm hanging over the side with the book lying on the floor right beneath it, as if she'd fallen asleep whilst reading and dropped it. Why else would Hermione Granger allow a book to be discarded on the floor? She guarded them as if they were her children.

Would it be so bad to kiss her, a part of me thought. I was in no way attracted to her, as a person, but I meant, blood purity didn't matter to me anymore. Nott seemed to think otherwise, and I was all for proving him wrong.

But, at the same time, could I do that to somebody? Whether it was Hermione Granger, the girl I was supposed to loathe, or not, I wasn't the person I used to be. I couldn't snog a girl in a broom cupboard and ignore her afterwards, anymore. 

Maybe she was a small price to pay in order to get back at my true enemy. 

But, at the same time, was it worth it? 

I made sure she was definitely asleep, before picking up a cushion and transfiguring it into a blanket, placing it carefully over her so I didn't disturb her. Hopefully, she'd just assume that she was the one who got tired and transfigured something into a blanket for herself, so she'd never find out it was me.

There was a distinct different between being nice and a creep.

I retreated to my bedroom, then, closing the door behind me before stripping to my underwear and then sliding into bed, too exhausted to do much else. It didn't take long to make my decision, and I soon drifted off to sleep, different potential outcomes playing on my mind.

                  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ah, Malfoy, you came." Nott acknowledged as I sat down facing him, my expression stony. 

I glanced at Blaise, only just now wondering what his reaction to my decision might be. He was my best friend, his opinion mattered. I already had a final answer that wouldn't budge any time soon, but I knew I'd still me bothered if he disapproved, which, when I thought about it, seemed likely.

"You didn't give me much choice in the matter."

"Oh, I did. You just couldn't resist beating me. Well, I'll tell you this - I'd love to see you try. So? What's it going to be?"

I looked over at Granger, then, who quickly met my gaze as if she'd been glancing over often, looking particularly confused. A sigh escaped my lips, and my eyes, instead, met those of my enemy, and his were gleaming with curiosity. 

"I'll take the bet."

                  —————————————


	5. Tasseomancy

HERMIONE

I knew there was something wrong the second I saw Malfoy conversing civilly with Theo, and Blaise Zabini apparently didn't even feel the need to draw his wand in warning at either of them.

The Head Boy had previously been so infuriated with his 'arch nemesis' (as he'd hissed to me in his own words in some spontaneous rant he had in the common room one evening), that he maintained a title he didn't really want and endured the 'pain that was being in the presence' of me just so Nott wouldn't get his own way, for once.

Now, he was chatting calmly with him, cheeks not even tinted red, fists unclenched, voice unraised. You didn't have to be a genius to know that something peculiar and out-of-the-ordinary was going on, there, and I felt a desperate urge to find out what it was.

"Mione? Why are you staring a- Hermione?" The voice of my red-haired friend (who was overly happy after being surprised in the middle of the night by her boyfriend) cut into my thoughts, and I snapped out of the daze I was apparently in, shrugging like everything was normal.

"I'm fine, Ginny. Just glad to be eating some delicious dinner, whether the house elves made it or not."

"Hermione."

"Mhm?"

"It's breakfast."

I paused, looking down skeptically at the toast I was holding as if I thought she might be wrong, wincing as I eventually met her gaze once again since it was rather obvious that she wanted answers.

"Sorry... my mind's elsewhere."

"I can see that." The female Weasley scoffed, turning around only momentarily as she whispered to Neville that they'd finish whatever conversation they'd been having later. "Why were you staring at the Slytherins? Did a certain blond catch your eye?"

"Oh, that's hilarious, Gin. Of course not. He could never. It's just-" her face flushed a little as she realised it was Draco she'd been looking at, after all, and it'd be rather difficult to wiggle out of that one.

"It's just?"

"Theodore Nott and... Malfoy, yes, have this sort of really intense rivalry. I think it's more than that, too, Malfoy was telling me about all the wretched things Theo's done, and I'm unsure of whether it's for my own good or to pit him against it to ensure that he doesn't become Head Boy."

"Wait, wait, wait... I have so many questions right now, and you hardly spoke. 'Mione, how do you cope?"

I shrugged, a laugh emitting from my mouth, and replied, "I hardly do. I just trap myself in my room all day, every day, studying or whatnot. It's not even because he taunts me, really, I can handle that, but he takes my presence as an excuse to rant on about Nott. It's tragic, really, from the way he went on about him, you'd think he had a crush, if we knew he wasn't straight."

"Honestly." The red-head replied with a nod of her head and an exasperated sigh. "Just... leave him be. His obsession with the feud will probably end, sooner or later."

"I hope it's sooner. I'm running out of Dreamless Sleep potion, and I'd rather not brew another with him taking the opportunity to sit in the bathroom and moan some more." We both simultaneously burst out laughing at the thought. Draco Malfoy being an emotional git at half two in the morning. Now that was a sight I'd love to see.

"Anyways, moving on... guess whose birthday it is tomorrow?"

I groaned in frustration, burying my head in my hands. "Gin, no. You make such a big deal out of it every year. I appreciate t, but it's becoming tiring, and... well, it's not really traditional at all if I don't get an owl in the morning from my parents, is it?"

Of course, I'd restored their memories, meaning they still knew everything I'd taught them about how to contact me when I was at Hogwarts, but after hearing the reason why they were initially erased, they decided they didn't want much, if anything, to do with magic. That meant no more sending owls, whether it was my birthday or not. 

"I know. 'Mione, I'm sorry. Although, I'd personally have no letter at all than have Errol crashing into my head, again. Bloody bird. How the hell is it still alive?" She was attempting to lighten the mood, bless her, and I did laugh, but I couldn't help but feel a little miserable nevertheless. I, personally, would much rather have Errol. As long as it was a letter from them.

"It's fine, really. We can have a small gathering, if you're so excited about it. I just can't deal with having first years I've never met tapping me and wishing me having a birthday, that's all. It's sweet, but... again, tiring."

"I understand. Small gathering. Right. Gryffindor Common Room tomorrow?"

I grinned. "You bet."

"Great! I'll let you know a time tomorrow morning, but for now, I'd better get to class. The new divination professor hates me, so if I'm early instead of late, for once, he might change his mind about that. What an arse."

"Really?" I asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "He seems alright to me. He doesn't get too impatient, even though divination is my worst subject."

"Wow. Hermione Granger admitting she's bad at something? I never thought I'd see the day." She retorted, and I hit her playfully on the arm. 

"Shut up, Gin. I don't know... maybe I'm already done with being the smartest witch of my age."

"That's a lie."

"Obviously."

We both erupted into laughter, taking a good several seconds to calm down, before I stood up as I grabbed a red apple from the centre of the table.

"Woah, woah, woah, Hermione, where are you going?" Ginny asked, instantly doing the same thing.

"Gin, we're in the same class. If you have divination, so do I." I said pointedly, rolling my eyes. Her face flushed red with embarrassment, and she nodded, flinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Oh. Right. I knew that. I was just testing you."

"Sure, Gin." I said with a laugh, tucking the apple in my pocket to eat either after or during class, since I wasn't so hungry at the moment.

We walked to our divination class, then, myself and Ginny chatting animatedly along the way, and the latter person being blissfully unaware of the internal struggle I was dealing with about this whole Malfoy/Nott situation. It was pathetic and petty of me to always have it on my mind, though if Malfoy was wrong about him, what was his motive to lie? And if he was right...

I managed to brush the thought aside temporarily, instead focusing on arriving in class on time.

                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DRACO

So, I made the bet. I agreed - whether stupidly or not, I was unsure of yet - to, some way or another, make Granger kiss me by October 31st. For a brief few minutes after agreeing, I was afraid that, even if I started being my wonderfully charming self from now, I'd never make her like me in that way in time - that is, until I glanced over at the Gryffindor table to see her staring curiously at me, even whilst Weaslette was in the middle of talking to her. Perhaps it'd be easier than I thought. 

I was still more than aware of the fact that this was going against everything I stood for, now. What was the point in building a new reputation if I was only going to destroy it with one blow again? But I was cunning, according to the sorting hat and Slytherin's general traits. I could easily convince her that I had no hard feelings about the 'way she felt', and she'd never suspect that I was responsible for warping her mind in such a way. The plan was genius - if I did say so myself.m

But Blaise didn't seem to think so. Sometimes, I sincerely questioned the school's decision to shove him into the Slytherin house with a bunch of cruel bastards (myself included) when he'd make a pretty adequate Hufflepuff. Other times, he showed me just how much Slytherin he was made of, and even he sorta scared me.

Coming from the dude who hugged Voldemort, this is a lot.

"You aren't seriously considering manipulating Granger that way, aren't you?" He hissed as we were heading to divination with that load of loathsome Gryffindors, and we were out of earshot of Nott.

"Would I have taken the bet if I wasn't, Zabini? I have to knock Nott down a peg or two, even if it means obliterating the current... acquaintanceship I've formed with the Gryffindor bloody princess. After that, I'll be a perfect angel, okay? I promise. You won't hear a peep from me, unless I'm spouting a load of BS about rainbows and kittens and all things cute and magical and fluffy..."

"Like an acromantula."

"Do I look like that clumsy oaf Hagrid to you?"

"Point taken."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair (which I seemed to never have time to put product in, anymore) and focused all my efforts on resisting the urge to hit my friend with my bag. It wasn't so difficult, because deep down, I knew he was right. What I was doing was the sort of thing the old Draco would do. If I was trying to rebuild myself, whilst also becoming a better person, then I wasn't doing a good bloody job of it. But it was far too late now. I couldn't back out before I'd even tried. Who knows, maybe Granger would understand what I was forced to do and not hold any grudges? I'd done worse before.

It's not as if witnessing her being tortured by my own aunt and not doing anything about it was an everyday occurrence, is it?

"Look, Blaise. You know that it's going to be hard to get out of the habit of prioritising my rivalries over my friendships - aside from in your case, of course - and if this plan all goes to shit, then... maybe it'll be a life lesson for me. If it doesn't, and Granger doesn't end up hating me, and Nott leaves me alone because I finally beat him, then I've vanquished my final enemy, so I'll have no need to do that kind of thing with anyone again."

"That's good thinking, except, what if Nott doesn't back down and makes it his life purpose to bring you down out of anger?"

"Then I suppose I'll have to wing it." I stated nonchalantly with a shrug, and he had no time to argue it as we entered the divination classrooms, groaning simultaneously as we saw that it was already three quarters full. Usually, we planned the perfect arrival time so that we were late enough to miss some of our lesson, but not so late that points were deducted from our house. That plan was out of the window, then.

"Good morning, you're late, take a seat and please note that whoever you sit beside will be your divination partner for a large portion of this year." The new Professor was talking exceptionally fast, and whilst I could understand him, it was really rather irritating. 

"Ooh, look, Blaise, there's Weaslette."

"Yeah? So?"

"We all know that you had a whopping crush on her. You literally admitted it in the carriage on the way to Hogwarts in 7th year, so you can't deny it. I'll get Pansy to confirm it, and you know she'll mock you more than I would."

"That's.... I HAD a crush on her. Past tense. And so what if I still think she's hot?  That means nothing. I'm not attracted to her." His whispering was going at the speed of a bloody Nimbus 2002, and was giving Professor McTalksalot a run for his money.

"Aw. You're nervous. You're lucky we're in class, now." I paused then, before a smirk crossed my features, and Blaise sighed, clearly knowing what was coming next. "I'm sure Granger won't miss her presence for one lesson... go ask if you can talk to Weaslette. Maybe I'll get comfortable on the desk beside you both, so she feels more inclined to join me." I grinned, giving the Italian a 'gentle' shove towards them both.

I did what I said, taking a seat on the other round table on my own, watching as the brunette girl attempted to cover her dismay with a forced smile as she headed over to sit beside me.

"This is just for today, Malfoy. From tomorrow onwards, I'm staying with Ginny." She stated matter-of-factly, and I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah."

Across from me, Zabini had just flopped down onto the vacant seat, and opened his mouth, struggling to find the words to say.

"Weasley, I-"

"I have a boyfriend, Zabini."

I barely stifled laughter as his face contorted in mental agony, even more speechless now than he was before.

"I was going to say the top button of your shirt is undone. It doesn't take a genius to see that the Professor hates you, so if you look even the slightest bit untidy... that's house points deducted." He tsked a little and her face flushed red as she hastily did her top button.

"Whatever, Zabini."

"I'm sitting back with Draco."

"I think that's probably best."

He rose from his seat and made a move to swap places with Hermione, but I smirked devilishly and waved him away. With a scowl, he reluctantly sat back down on the chair beside Weaslette, and they both started arguing once again.

"So, Granger-" I began once again, but she cut me off with a cold glare.

"I know what you're doing."

"Eh?" My blood ran cold, and I could've sworn that my heart skipped five beats in a row. Was this girl a damned mind reader?

"You know what I'm talking about."

"No, Granger, I'm afraid we don't all possess the same psychic abilities as you."

She scoffed, then, refusing to meet my gaze, stared intently at the Professor. "It's cruel, Malfoy. Cut it out, before somebody gets hurt. It won't end well for any of them."

I let out a breath of air I hadn't realised that I'd been holding at her words, and rolled my eyes. "No, really, I have no idea what you're referring to."

"Ginny and Blaise. You're trying to set them up. That's why you made me sit with you, so they'd be paired together for the rest of the year, correct? Look, I get that it's a 'nice' thing to do, but-"

"Woah, woah, woah. Granger. Stop. Are you having a laugh? Never would I ever pair Blaise, my best friend and loyal companion-"

"You're making him sound like a dog."

"-with a ginger, feisty little rodent like Weaslette. It's common sense. How could you possibly think I'd ever dare to tarnish my name enough to do something like that?"

"You're so extra, Malfoy." The bookworm retorted, rolling her eyes for added emphasis.

"You say that like it's a bad thing. I'd rather be extra than ordinary. Or extraordinary, if I do say so myself."

"Aaaannndd modest is one thing that you're not. If your ego were any bigger, I don't think it'd be able to fit on Earth."

"On Earth? I think the universe is a better way to put it."

"Touché."

"Students!" Rang the voice of  the new Professor, who looked way too obnoxious and young to teach divination. "I'm sure you're all familiar with the reading of tea leaves, since there was a whole debacle about it in your third year, I believe? Each of you will get a cup, and yourself and your partner will work out each other's, okay? Sound easy enough?" The class murmured in agreement, and he grinned. "Excellent. Oh, my name's Professor Malvolio, by the way, and as you can see I'm new to this, so stick with me and I'm sure we'll be fine."

The room erupted into conversation then, everybody wrapped up in their own little verbal bubble - even Weaslette and Blaise - apart from myself and Granger, who was drinking her tea in preparation for the leaf reading.

"So, Granger-"

"I'm almost all out." She blurted, cutting me off, and I blinked in confusion at her.

"Of tea? You realise that you're only drinking it to get it over and done with, right, this isn't lunch-"

"No, I mean, the..." she glanced around and inhaled, leaning so far forward to speak that I could smell the sweet vanilla scent of her hair, or perfume. Unless that was just her natural aroma. I'd always loved vanilla, but I felt as if it was my duty to hate it, now.

"The...?"

"The potion. For dreamless sleep."

"Jeez, Granger, we only brewed that a couple of weeks ago."

"I know, but small amounts weren't working for me. The nightmares were too strong, I suppose."

"You with your damned imaginative brain." I rolled my eyes as she did the same at my comment, before I continued. "Fine. We'll brew some more tonight, okay? I probably have ingredients left over, but if not, I'll sneak into the potions storage cupboard and snatch some more. I don't think anybody would know, really."

Some weird, unfamiliar feeling overcame me as she grinned from ear to ear and thanked me profusely, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that it was... nice. Warm and fuzzy, like a bloody teddy bear. Like genuine happiness, not the sort of forced pleasure I'd felt whenever I taunted Potter or beat Gryffindor in a quidditch match, or made up the Weasley is Our King song. Then, I'd felt as if I had to appear joyful, because why would the Slytherin king and Malfoy heir feel negatively towards bullying mudbloods and blood traitors? 

But now, I'd made a 'mudblood' happy. I wasn't an asshole, like Nott had declared. I was changing.

Or so I'd hoped.

"Right. Well," the brunette began, when we'd both finished our tea. "Time to read the leaves, I suppose."

I nodded in agreement, and we exchanged cups, scanning each one carefully and comparing any potential patterns to the figures in the book.

I squinted hard at Granger's cup, trying to make out the different shapes. I thought one was a very distorted dog, at first, and I feared for the poor girl's life, but after repositioning it I found an odd n shape, and what appeared to be either a puddle or a cloud. I decided to go with the latter, and looked them both up in the book. 

My face paled. The little n-like curve meant 'together', so that was good, I supposed, but the cloud meant 'trouble', and I figured that it wouldn't show up in her cup of it was going to be a small dilemma.

"Finished?" The Gryffindor asked, gesturing to my cup to indicate that she had. "I'll read yours first."

I nodded, swallowing, and she squinted in concentration. "There's a- an acorn, I think, which means..." she flicked through the book until she found the correct page, and she raised an eyebrow. "Unexpected gold."

"As if I don't have enough of that already." I scoffed, but I was secretly relieved. I was almost positive that my father would try to persuade my mother to give the family fortune to somebody else, like Andromeda, at least, so a little money would likely be a great help.

"Tell me about it. And this one... is a bird, I think. That means-"

"Good news." I interrupted, breathing a sigh of relief. Nothing bad for me, then.

"Yes." She agreed, glancing down at it again for just a second and frowning. "Wait a minute... no, sorry, my mistake. That's not a bird. It's a... snake?"

I groaned as she checked the book, already knowing pretty much exactly what was coming. Why would snakes show a positive future? Even me, a Slytherin, could see that there wasn't exactly happiness in store for me.

"It means enemy, or falsehood. You don't know anybody out to get you, do you?" She asked, eyes holding something that appeared to be deep concern.

"Relax, Granger, I'll survive. The Grim isn't exactly in there, is it?" I asked - as a joke, but her eyes flickered down and her face showed a brief hint of worry.

"Well..."

My heart rate quickening and my breathing becoming heavier was the last thing I remembered before I blacked out.

 

           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HERMIONE

I didn't want Draco Malfoy to die.

It wasn't definite that he would, yet, and I knew that. When Harry's cup contained the Grim, he didn't die. Well... not really, anyway.

But, anyway, it was just a possibility. His future could easily be altered, that was the rule of tasseomancy, that what appeared in your cup wasn't definite. He didn't seem to think that way, thought, since the idea of him dying got to his head and he- well, he fainted.

It would've been comical, to see Draco Malfoy, of all people, to drop out of his chair and, like a codfish, fall down onto the floor, if he hadn't just received the divination equivalent of a death threat. Some people initially laughed at the sight, but when Professor Malvolio rushed over to check his cup and announced the reason behind him fainting, they fell silent. I could've sworn that I even heard one particularly hormonal female begin to cry at the back of the classroom.

"Miss Granger, help me carry him." He stated, and I nodded, holding his torso and head up while the professor supported his legs. He was surprisingly light, I noted, in spite of him not being as pallid and skinny anymore. 

"I'll help." Blaise Zabini piped up, a look of pure horror still plastered on his face. The older man didn't object as the Italian helped to even out the blonde's weight, and we all carried him out to the hospital wing, with the rest of the students lingering in the doorway of the classroom, both confused and petrified.

It was another ten minutes until Malfoy was dragged back into consciousness, and he still looked miserable.

"How are you feeling?" I whispered, and he seemed surprised that I'd even considered asking him that question.

"Well, I've just discovered that a bloody cup thinks I'm going to die soon and I fainted in front of our whole divination class. Imagine the rumours circulating about me already! I'm ruined." He went to lift himself up but gasped, a hand flying to his forehead.

"Yeah, you hit your head. I wouldn't do that if I were you." I said teasingly, sitting in the chair beside him. 

"No shit, Sherlock." He mumbled, wincing as he continued to sit up. "Right, well I have a pounding headache now as well as having to prepare myself for impending death. Isn't this a great day for me?"

"We also have a quidditch match in a week." Said Blaise pointedly, receiving a glare from the blond. "Sorry."

"I'm sure you won't die, Malfoy." I added, hoping it'd cheer him up at least a little. "I could've read the cu-"

"Don't you dare suggest that you read the cup wrong. You're Hermione damned Granger, of course you didn't."

"Divination is my weakest subject."

"Oh, yeah, as if."

I was only mildly offended at his comment, because he was making me seem stupid by stating that I was completely wrong, but simultaneously boosting my confidence. Why couldn't he be simple, obvious, black and white? No, he was all grey, that's what he was. A stupid bloody cloud. Speaking of which...

"Besides, Malfoy," I added, shrugging my shoulders, "I read my tea leaves, and I'm apparently going to face trouble sometime soon. I'm not freaking out. It's best if we stay calm."

"Oh, stay calm my arse, you're not going to die, Granger."

Madame Pomfrey entered then, hurrying over with a small vial. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Mr Malfoy, it's just a headache. Or did a hippogriff give you that, too?"

Neither myself nor Blaise Zabini could suppress a snicker at that, and Malfoy tried his best to hide his annoyance. "I was referring to some other matter, Madame Pomfrey, but I appreciate your... concern."

She placed it on the table beside his bed, then, before exiting again. He must've taken such a vial from her before, because he seemed to know exactly what to do with it without inquiry.

"Zabini, I want to say a quick word to Granger alone, if that's okay? It'll only take a few seconds, just go stand over there." He gestured aimlessly to the far end of the room, and the other Slytherin scowled, before doing as he wished. I could've sworn that he muttered numerous profanities under his breath as he left, but I thought nothing of it. 

"Pomfrey wants to check me over. Make sure I don't have any lasting bumps or bruises, which I think is pathetic, but apparently my mother made her sign something which instructed her to check over me thoroughly if I have the slightest incident."

"So you won't be back in the dormitories tonight. Got it." I said, but I knew what he was getting at.

"No, Granger, you don't get it. I won't be there to help you make a dreamless sleep potion, nor will I be able to grab any more ingredients for you. Are you sure you have no more?"

"I have a small amount, but not enough for a whole night, I- no. You know what? It's fine. I'm a big girl, I'll be able to survive a few hours without some damned potion." Malfoy seemed unconvinced - curse him, he was smarter than he looked - but he didn't breathe a word. Perhaps he didn't want to make it look as if he cared by asking any further questions. Perhaps he actually didn't. "Anyways... I'd better return to class. I'll see you tomorrow." Tomorrow. That was my birthday. God damn it, I'd agreed to the Gryffindor common room gathering. I couldn't brew a potion with him then, we wouldn't speak.

Unless...

No. He wouldn't be able to care less that it was my birthday the following day, so what was the point in asking him to come? Answer; there was none. I could enjoy myself, with or without the knowledge that a highly necessary potion was waiting for me when I returned. 

"Goodbye, Granger. Don't let the door hit you on the arse in the way out."

             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DRACO 

Of course Granger wouldn't get a wink of sleep. That one was a given. Her face had dropped the moment I'd said that I needed to talk to her privately, although she tried to cover it up. She didn't have the ingredients needed to make a dreamless sleep potion, nor did she have the energy, judging by the barely concealed bags under her eyes that still hadn't completely faded. 

The old Draco would've thought that her concern for me was truly pitiful. I'd always been raised with the message that 'concern was weakness' carved into my brain, and so I'd grown up believing it, until recently. Now... it felt nice. To have somebody other than my mother and Blaise to actually worry about me and my safety, even if it was nothing extreme, and even if that somebody was Granger. 

Now, I felt guilty. Here she was, standing by my bedside whether it was for ten minutes or not, and I couldn't even drag my arse out of bed to brew a potion with her. If she had another raging nightmare tonight, it was my fault.

Turns out, though, that even without the potion, I came in handy anyway. I'd been asleep for about three hours after night fell, when the realisation of the presence of another person suddenly dawned on me, and my eyes snapped open. On first glance, I was terrified of this mysterious dark shadow lurking in the corner, but when my eyes adjusted I saw the brown-haired Gryffindork curled up and snoring softly in the chair beside me. She must've gotten scared and come to somebody for company. The first person she thought of was me, apparently.

I contemplated waking her. It had to be uncomfortable, sleeping in that position for hours on end. Then, I realised, she'd probably been tossing and turning, craving sleep, for hours already. I wasn't about to take that away from her, no matter how much of an irritating nerd she was sometimes.

So I closed my eyes and went back to sleep. It was that simple. I didn't do anything cruel, take advantage of her sleeping self by pranking her, wake her up in a particularly cruel way, or anything else that might annoy her. I simply... stayed where I was. 

In your face, Theodore fucking Nott. I could be nice. If I really tried.


	6. Atypical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okok thank you hoes for sticking with me!! 1000 hits in just 5 chapters? I’m insanely lucky to have you guys!! Hope you enjoy this one ;)

HERMIONE

Of all things I'd expected that I might do this year at Hogwarts, waking up in an armchair beside Draco Malfoy's hospital bed most definitely was not one of them - especially after willingly going over and sleeping there instead of back in the Gryffindor tower with Ginny. 

The previous night, I'd consumed the remainder of the potion that Malfoy and I had brewed, and since there was only a small amount left, it worked for three hours before the horrors of the past all came rushing back, and I woke up in a cold sweat. I knew almost instantly that trying to fall asleep again wasn't doable, until I stupidly decided that, since Malfoy was the one who helped me brew the potion in the first place, perhaps, theoretically, the Slytherin himself had some psychological effect on me. It was a long shot, but I hoped that his presence would be a decent makeshift dreamless sleep potion. 

Of course, I was incredibly sleep-deprived when I devised this plan, and I wasn't in the right state of mind. For some reason, I didn't stop to consider the fact that it could easily just be the company of another person that made me feel safer. 

It worked, though. I felt an immense pain shoot through my neck when I woke the following morning, but at least I'd slept. I didn't recall having the ability to do that without a potion for months on end, so I was beyond thankful that I'd managed to have a few hours to rest, whether it was beside Malfoy or not. 

I'd also hoped that I'd wake up before him to avoid confrontation, but the lack of sleep caught up with me and I remained unconscious for an additional couple of hours. When I woke, he was practising wizard's chess, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. When I stirred, though, his head snapped up instantly, and a small smirk played on his lips. I groaned aloud, almost able to literally create his voice in my head saying what I knew he was about to say. It was a typical Malfoy move, after all.

"Wow, Granger. If you missed me that much, you could've just said so."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DRACO

"You woke up and found who doing what?"

"Keep your damned voice down, Zabini. I swear to Merlin, I can't tell you anything. Always gotta announce it to the whole world" i grumbled, earning an eye roll in retaliation from Blaise. "I found Granger sleeping in a chair beside my hospital bed, okay? It's nothing major, but at least it's going to be a little easier to win this bet, now. She doesn't detest me."

"Hold on... Gryffindor's Princess slept at your bedside and the bet is all you're worried about right now? Isn't it odd to you?"

"Of course it's odd, Zabini. She went from loathing me to trying to slide into my bed."

"Woah, hold up. Not every girl is like your precious Daphne, Malfoy, she wouldn't do that."

"Touché." I paused for a moment, scratching my head in a state of somewhat deep thought. Granger had friends, right? So why was it me she had come to? 

"I need to talk to her." I blurted, earning a wide-eyed glance of astonishment from Blaise.

"You what?"

"Well, I need to know that she isn't expecting me to be a complete angel to her now that she slept in relatively close proximity of me."

"Why the hell is that?"

"In case- oh, I don't know. I need to find her." I made an attempt to stand up from my hospital bed but failed miserably, wincing and sitting right back down. "I swear to Merlin, where the bloody hell is Pomfrey with my potion? It feels like there's a bludger slamming around inside my skull."

"You did hit your head pretty hard." Stated the Italian, apparently only faking concern as he hastily added, "which is obviously why you're coming up with all this nonsense."

"Shut up, Blaise."

And I stood up then, ignoring the pounding in my head as best as I possibly could, and marched directly towards the doors leading into the hallway, vaguely remembering Pomfrey telling me to stay put but, naturally, ignoring that too.

I hadn't the slightest idea where I was going. What time was it, anyway? Would she be at breakfast? Lunch? Dinner? Would she be in the library? Our dorm? The Gryffindor common room? The owlery? In class? I'd never admit it aloud, but Blaise was right. This was an absurd idea.

It was only when I rounded the corner just outside the doors and I collided with another figure that it struck me - literally and figuratively - that I didn't need to search for her. I only had to wait for her to come rushing back to me with an explanation she'd been dying for me to hear all day, for fear of me getting the 'wrong idea'. It was all so unbelievably cliché, and, quite frankly, I found it hilarious. 

"Granger. You look desperate to see me."

"Shove off, Malfoy. Professor McGonagall asked if I'd bring you notes from the classes you're missing. I didn't ask to be here."

"No, of course not. Did she ask you to bring me notes at 3am, too?"

Her face flushed as red as the stripes of her tie, then, though she tried to hide it. "Why are you out of bed? Madame Pomfrey told me that your head would surely be throbbing for a few days." She stated, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, well, she was wrong. I'm perfectly fine, see?" I tapped my own head as if to prove a point, the gentle pokes feeling somewhat similar to hammers against my temple. I must've flinched, because Granger raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

"Shut up, Malfoy, stop trying to act like this big, strong, invincible damned Slytherin and get some rest. You'll take longer to heal if you don't get the boring part over and done with now."

"I was just told that I'm probably going to die, Granger, a slight headache is the least of my worries."

"Oh yeah?" She smirked slightly, folding her arms in a manner that frightened me just a little bit. "What if I do THIS?" She yelled the last word in the sentence and I instantly let out a groan of agony, clutching my head and squeezing my eyes shut - as if that would help. 

"You bushy-haired bitch, you know I'm suffering!"

"You denied it, Malfoy. How was I supposed to know any better?" She shrugged and smiled sweetly in an act of faux innocence, before turning on her heel and marching off to the direction of my hospital bed, greeting Blaise with the same warmth and sincerity that she'd use towards a fellow Gryffindor.

House unity? What the hell? Since WHEN?

Reluctantly, I followed her over to the other Slytherin, my brain seemingly sloshing around brutally inside my skull with every step I took. The pair sat patiently, side by side, until I finally took a seat on the bed and let out a deep sigh of annoyance.

"Right, okay. Thanks for the notes, Granger. Thanks for listening, Blaise. Now, both of you, piss off."  

They both looked considerably startled - Granger more so than Blaise, since the latter had become used to my harsh demands after seven years of us being best friends. The girl looked relatively crestfallen, proving my theory that she was hoping to have a conversation with me about this morning, and now she didn't have an opportunity. 

After a brief pause, the two communicated that they ought to follow my demand through a single look before standing up, smiling forcedly at me and walking out of the room, Madame Pomfrey still nowhere to be bloody found. It felt like there was a nest of Blast-Ended Skrewts buried in my brain, ready to burst at any moment. I didn't moan and groan about it, though. I'd endured and witnessed much worse; instead of whining, I found myself counting my lucky stars that I wasn't worse off.

Except I was. My head only hurt because I hit it off a desk, when I fainted, after finding out that I was likely going to die.

The Mediwitch brought my potion in after another half hour, and five minutes after that, the face of a Gryffindor I'd still been expecting popped around the curtain.

"I hate to bother you - again - but I really need to talk to you. You're not stupid, so I presume that you know what the topic is." She was chewing her lip (a habit that she really needed to get out of) and fiddling with a hangnail, clearly nervous. "If you're tired, then I can come back later-"

"Please, Granger. You say that as if me being in need of rest stopped you any other time." I saw her fists clench, but her demeanour remained perfectly calm and collected despite my unnecessary remark.

"Yeah, that's sort of what I want to talk about."

"I gathered that."

"Anyway," she cleared her throat and smoothed down her skirt, finally meeting my curious gaze with an awkward smile. "The Dreamless Sleep potion didn't work. There was too little of it left. So I thought that, since you were there to help me make it, there might be some weird, magic... loophole?"

And then I laughed. I couldn't help it. I knew it was a sensitive topic for her, and I was attempting to be much less arse-y with people, but I couldn't handle her evident oblivious state when it came to the background of magic. Sure, she knew the history, and the wand movements, and the incantations, but we were never taught how it worked. My father had always been the one to teach me that aspect of it, since being a pureblood came with its educational perks, I supposed. Granger was a muggle-born, and you could tell, because she was utterly clueless.

"Granger, there are no loopholes in magic, how could you be so utterly-"

"But it worked." She blurted, and all I could do was blink helplessly in response. Well damn, I didn't expect her to say that. Now what could I do to back myself up? "I had the best sleep I've had without the aid of a potion for months, and I don't know how, or why, but it... it worked. And I was hoping that, since you likely have your own occasional nightmares, you'd also understand since you'd do anything to make them go away. I know my theory was bizarre, a long shot, but it worked. And, even if I had to sleep in a chair beside you, I'd be more than happy to take any chance I can." She finished breathlessly, brushing a stray strand of wavy hair behind her ear after it had apparently fallen in front of her face.

"It was purely coincidence, Granger. Maybe you don't need the potion anymore. Hogwarts is your home. Now it's been rebuilt, you probably feel safer here." My voice wasn't mocking, as it usually would've been, but it was less harsh than usual - soft, almost. I sounded rather disgruntled, still, but I couldn't help that after the excuse she'd just given me. My ego had deflated a little when I learned that the only reason she came to me first was because she thought there was some mAgIcAl LoOpHoLe. Ridiculous.

"Possibly." She bit her lip and sighed, taking a step or two backwards. "So, do you think I should try to sleep without using a potion tonight? See if it works?"

"You're allegedly the brightest bloody witch of our age and you are asking me about potions? You know I could give you some false advice, and you'd go to sleep and you'd never wake up. Easy." Her expression told me that she wasn't particularly pleased with my witty response, and she was expecting something genuine. My bad. But cruel humour was a habit that was difficult to get out of. I just hope some people know that. "Sorry, uh... well, I mean, you don't know until you try. Test it. The worst case scenario is that you'll have one more nightmare and realise that you're not ready yet."

The brunette contemplated this for a while, absently twirling a strand of hair around her finger, before she sighed and nodded. "I suppose you're right." I opened my mouth to make a witty remark, but she held up a hand to stop me. "No thanks, Malfoy, I don't want your egotistical comments. I'm saying you're right this once, not all of the time. You're hardly ever right. But this is a rare occasion. So, thank you." She beamed then, leaving me little to no time to respond with anything before she spun out of her heel and practically skipped out of the hospital wing. I shook my head, which was particularly difficult when it was literally throbbing, but that didn't do anything to stop me. 

Never had I thought that I'd be Hermione Granger's acquaintance. It's one thing sharing a tower with her, because that was sort of inevitable, but here I was being civil with the enemy. The mere thought of it made me want to throw up repeatedly in my mouth until my throat was raw and it hurt to speak, because then, I wouldn't have to speak to her and go against everything I stood for once again. For the entirety of my life I'd hated the very thought of muggle-borns, let alone interacting with one, and in spite of me wanting to change that, I couldn't help but find it bizarre.

But I was making progress. It was wicked of me, I was aware, but if I was already helping her out in certain ways and slowly earning her trust, perhaps winning this bet wouldn't be as difficult as I initially thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was discharged from the hospital wing just a few hours later, when the pain in my head had pretty much ceased and Pomfrey had made sure that I definitely didn't have concussion. She also gave me some advice on hOw To DeAl WiTh mY fAtE, which I think is a load of rubbish, because I'm not going to die. Divination has always been bollocks. A different professor doesn't change that. Nor will it ever.

The first thing I did was head straight out to the Quidditch pitch. Not necessarily by will, but by instinct. I'd gone too long without jumping on my broom and soaring high into the air, the sensation of the wind hitting my face being a decent substitute for complete and utter freedom, at least. 

When I was flying, I was way above everything. Not in terms of status, or grades, or blood purity, even - but literally. I could escape any dilemma I might've faced that very day, looking down on it like I was practically sitting on the sun itself. Failed a test? Father will be mad at me, sure, but I can run away from that for a while. Hide from him in the silvery folds of the clouds seemingly overlapping one another, inching away from his menacing grasp. 'Attacked' by a Hippogriff? Sure, it can fly, but I can fly faster. There's a slim to none chance that it'll find me up here. 

Initially, the room of requirement was the spot I used to get away from the troubles of my adolescence, but you can see why that soon grew to be a problem.

Now, my issues were whisked away by the fierce blowing of the wind, just another small dot amongst those down below me that were, in fact, trees. I wasn't going to die, up there. Heck, I wasn't anyway, that bloody divination Professor clearly didn't know how to do his job properly, but if there was even the smallest fragment of me that thought maybe it was possible, all was forgotten up on that broomstick. I was fine.

Until an owl came to meet me mid-air and handed me a small slip of parchment. My eyes surveyed it for just a moment, before a smirk played on my lips and I flew directly towards the ground.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HERMIONE

It was a Friday night (the evening after Malfoy had fainted, although he still seemed insistent that he'd been in the hospital wing for days - I think he was just trying to be whiny so he'd get out earlier) so, naturally, I was curled up with a book and a mug of hot chocolate, Crookshanks lying dozily just a foot or two away from me on the other side of the sofa. Ginny was spending a little time with Luna, and both had asked me numerous times if I wanted to join them, but I'd politely declined. Just because my best friends were away pursuing their dream careers, that didn't mean I had the right to intrude on another best-friendship. I wouldn't particularly like it if myself, Harry and Ron were spending some quality time together and one of them joined spontaneously - not because I dislike them, because that isn't quite true, I love them with all of my heart, but because I miss spending time alone with my best friends.

Plus, it was kind of a relief to hear that she'd forgotten about my birthday so I wouldn't have to be largely fussed over like always. That is, until an owl dropped a letter beside me and left right through the window again. Puzzled, I unfolded the letter and skimmed it, my eyes slightly widening in surprise.

'I need help, 'Mione, and you need to get here quick. I don't know how much longer I have left'

\- Ginny.

The pace of my heart quickened, and after scribbling to Malfoy an explanation of where I was going just in case he returned when I was gone, I grabbed my wand and left the room.

I assumed that Ginny was in the Gryffindor Common Room, as that was where she originally said she'd be with Luna and she hadn't written any other location on the parchment, so that's where I went, hastily mumbling a password to the portrait before I slipped inside, my wand drawn, well prepared to tackle any potential evil that might be in the room.

"Hello?" My voice echoed oddly around the room, and I didn't even have time to repeat myself before a large, horizontally elongated shadow rose from behind the sofa, and the light switched on, revealing a row of students - my closest friends, conveniently, to be exact.

"SURPRISE!" Came the shriek, before tons of golden confetti started raining down from the ceiling, the source of them being nothing in particular - magic did have its wonderful perks. My heart slowed a little, and I let out a deep sigh of relief at the realisation that none of my friends were in trouble at all. It even relieved me slightly to discover that my birthday hadn't really been forgotten about, which astonished me at the same time. A light laugh escaped my lips, and I clutched a hand to my heart, before throwing my arms around Ginny and beaming at the thirty or so people in the room. I couldn't help but notice that Harry and Ron weren't there, but I tried not to let it distract me from the people present.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, you absolute hag," I rolled my eyes; squeezing her tighter nevertheless. "thank you. You never fail to make me smile, honestly."

"Of course I don't, 'Mione, I'm incredible." She scoffed, eventually pulling away, but a genuine grin crossed her face. "No problem. It was the perfect excuse to throw a party, after all."

"Touché."

"Well... go mingle! All of your presents are stacked in my room so certain people don't snatch them just to irritate you or whatnot. Let me know when you want to open them, and I'll drag everyone over to watch. If you want, of course. I know I've already sort of crossed a line by throwing this when you told me not to-"

"No, Gin," I cut her off with a reluctant sigh, nodding slowly. "This is perfect. Truly. I'm glad you rebelled, to be honest with you."

"Fantastic, because I'm doing it again next time."

               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was only around half an hour into the night when it dawned on me that I'd been talking to the exact same five people on a loop the entire time, and that it was only rude that I wasn't being totally hospitable with guests at my birthday party, so I excused myself and took a stroll around the room, eager to find somebody who wasn't already in the middle of a conversation already. It was difficult, I had to admit; Seamus and Dean were whispering the sorts of things into each others' ear that automatically put up some sort of warning sign, Parvati and Lavender were actively trying to flirt with as many males as possible, and Ernie MacMillan was a little busy checking out the buffet table (Ginny really had gone above and beyond).

I contemplated returning to my original group, until a flash of blonde hair strikingly contrasted beside the jet black hair caught my eye, and I furrowed my eyebrows. These two were already conversing, yes, but what they had to talk about could wait, because I was already striding over with a half-hearted smile.

"Malfoy. Zabini."

The latter boy spat out his pumpkin juice and sheepishly wiped his mouth afterwards, before setting his goblet down on the table. "Hermione. Happy birthday, you utter Gryffindork."

"Wow, Blaise, always the charming one." I rolled my eyes but couldn't quite suppress a laugh anyway, and I gave him a playful shove. Although I only knew him through Malfoy and therefore I hadn't interacted with him much, I had rather taken a shine to him, since he was living proof that not all Slytherins were blatantly arrogant arses from first glance, and that was sort of a relief to me.

"Anyways..." I continued, clearing my throat before Blaise had the chance to say something witty. "What are you both doing here? Not to be rude or anything, but we aren't exactly the closest of friends."

"Right, Granger, and you talk to Anthony bloody Goldstein every day, don't you?"

I blushed then, because to be honest, he was only stating the truth. I hadn't really conversed with Anthony that much at all - our friendship consisted mostly of just a nod or a wave in the hallway, excluding the couple of times he'd come and sit with us at lunch. 

"Fine, you have a point. But, in that case, I have two more specific questions. One; who invited you, then? Because I didn't know about this and I can't imagine anybody else doing so - no offence. And two; why do you want to come anyway? We're not exactly friends. Also - no offence again."

Malfoy cocked an eyebrow at my response, before letting out a deep chuckle, nudging Blaise who was also on the brink of laughing.

"Ah, Granger. Firstly, your friend Weaslette sent me an owl saying that she didn't know whether or not I hated you, but if I wanted to show that I didn't, come to your birthday party. I think that if we're going to be able to stand each other for the rest of the year, we might as well live in a comfortable environment in terms of our relationship. I'd propose a friendship right now, but that's incredibly crass, so I'll go against that." He rolled his eyes at that one final statement of his, and I smiled slightly, waiting for the next thing he was going to say. "Plus, you didn't even tell me it was your birthday, which only led me to think that you don't want me to know that it's your birthday. So I came, partially to tease you and partially because I didn't get you a present, and although we aren't particularly close enough to give each other presents, I love to flaunt my wealth. You know that."

My mouth emitted a faux gasp and I dramatically clutched a hand to my heart, "You didn't get me a present? Malfoy, merlin's beard, you're a disgrace to wizard kind!"

He could only blink in response, and actually looked almost unapologetic, so I couldn't help but burst into a rather undignified laughter.

"I'm joking, Malfoy." I clarified, but paused, thinking briefly before adding, "you still owe me, though."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DRACO

The evening went unexpectedly well, to say the least. Of course, I stuck right by Blaise's side for the entirety of the night like some pathetic lap dog, but on the bright side, I discovered that even Gryffindors weren't all half bad. I'd never even consider admitting this aloud, but, still. 

It was drawing closer to 1am, and the remaining few people were red-faced and exhausted from dancing, so they were beginning to drop like flies. There was still a great deal of people left, though, since at some point a few added guests had joined the party in the common room. Blaise was whining on and on about... well, I no longer really noticed what it was that he was talking about. I was too busy taking in the scene, positively aghast that I was a snake surrounded by lions in the first place, dragging my eyes over the room until they fell on one particular bookworm, lounging lazily (and alone) in the corner by the fire. 

"One second, Blaise. I have some Head thing I need to discuss with Granger before I forget. You know what I'm like." I mumbled almost inaudibly, before slipping between two Ravenclaw's still talking and heading over to stand above her crouching form.

"You're not the most hospitable of hostesses, are you, Granger?" I asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow as she raised her head to meet my questioning gaze. "Isn't it deemed rude to be absent during your own party?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Malfoy, I'm right here." She retorted with an exaggerated eye roll, standing up and brushing herself down.

"I meant mentally absent. You're somewhere else, in there." I pointed directly to her forehead and she groaned, shaking her head. 

"It's not something I'd expect you to understand, or, if you did, care about."

"Well... you're right, but Mother always used to remind me that ranting about anything that's bothering you to a willing target is far better than taking out your pent up frustration on somebody who doesn't deserve it. Of course, I never took her advice, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't."

"Your mother is a wise woman." Granger remarked, before adding, "You clearly take after your father."

"Oh, that's hilarious."

"I know." She smiled slightly, before shaking her head at herself, apparently. "It's petty, though. It's a prime example of a first-world problem. People have it much worse than me."

"Oh, won't you shut up." I hissed, causing the brunette's head to snap back up in my direction, her accusatory gaze landing on me. "Do you think it would've been right for Voldemort's victims to allow him to torture them purely because 'people have it much worse'? Do you think injured students avoid going to the hospital wing purely because it's only a sprained wrist, some people have broken their leg? No. If your issue is really that minor, Granger, it'll be easier to bloody fix, so fix it."

"Oh, you're an arse, Malfoy, really." She bit back, but something told me that she didn't truly mean it. Whether it was because her bold tone faltered, or she couldn't quite meet my gaze when she said it, something gave away that she wasn't truly mad at me. Just mad that I was right. Which sounded totally immodest, I'll admit, but that didn't stop me from assuming it anyhow.

"Well?"

"I guess.. I guess I thought," she began, seating herself back down on the sofa. "that once the war was over, and the wizarding world looked as it always used to, I'd be fine. Heck, no, I'd be more than fine, I'd be fantastic. There'd been this dark shadow looming over me ever since first year when I formed a friendship with Harry, and it had only been growing and growing until it overwhelmed me, but when Voldemort was vanquished, it'd evaporate. 

"But it's as if he never left. I never really spent time with Harry and Ron, if you think about it, unless we were plotting some way to defeat the dark lord. Now that he's gone, it's as if they're more distant than ever, if anything. My parents have their memories back, but I don't have the opportunity to see them much at all. Half of the wizarding world still shrieks in excitement when they see me in the street because I'm some war heroine, but that doesn't stop me from being afraid that some death eater's going to stride right over to me and hit me right in the chest with an unforgivable curse. Mind you, I was always afraid, but at least I was prepared. Now, I'm supposed to relax." She scoffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms indignantly. "How am I ever supposed to relax?"

"I understand." I stated with a frown, almost visibly wincing at my civil manner. That was something I didn't fancy the idea of getting used to. "Most magic folk still detest even the thought of me, so it's damn near difficult to go out in public without Mother beside me, since she saved Potter's life. When Voldemort was alive, they wouldn't dare to look me in the eye. Now, it's as if they take every chance they get to humiliate me publicly, because I can't do anything about it. That's a worse form of punishment than the goddamn cruciatus curse, because at least with that, I knew approximately when it was going to end. With most people hating me, though... when that'll end is unpredictable."

I didn't intend on saying a single word of that. I was already stepping way out of my comfort zone by listening to another person's issues, let alone Granger's, and let alone sharing my own. But it's as if her own voice did something to me. I heard her pouring her heart out, describing her own dilemmas, and some small part of me envied her for it. She had the ability to be emotional, honest. I was stuck inside this metaphorical shell I'd built for myself. So, without thinking twice, and as crass as it sounded, I broke free of it. Just once.

"Yeah. I'm sorry." Was all she responded, the amber hue of the fire dancing in her eyes as she stared intently at the flame. "It's ironic, isn't it? We're complete opposites, and yet sometimes we know each other so well."

"I don't know, Granger." I retorted, scratching my head absently. "The old me never would've even considered it, but in this day and age, it seems to me that we're a little more alike than you think."

             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Granger and I retreated to our tower at around 1:30am, thankful that we didn't have classes the next day, walking in a peculiarly comfortable silence. I usually would've taken it as an opportunity to make some sly remark, but not tonight. For some reason, I didn't feel the need.

We said our hushed goodbyes and went our separate ways, the Gryffindor heading towards the door on the left and me making a beeline for the room on the right. It was as if we were friends already, like we hadn't positively despised each other for almost a decade, like we hadn't been on opposite sides during an entire war, whether I was comfortable with 'supporting' the dark side or not. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. It was... nice, to have a friend aside from Blaise who didn't use me for my money or my looks, even if they hadn't confirmed that we were friends yet. At the same time, thought, it was uncharted territory, and I wasn't sure what was supposed to happen next. 

I must've been awake for three hours, merely lying in bed, the goosebumps on my bare chest not even enough to make me drag a blanket over myself, because I was far too deep in thought. This hadn't been your typical night, to say the least. It was completely bizarre, unusual, and some might even go as far as to say weird. Nothing blatantly major occurred, but everything had felt major to me. For starters, I'd been open with somebody I used to treat like the scum underneath my shoe. That was about as common as an alien waltzing into Hogwarts and marrying Professor McGonagall. Secondly... I'd attended the birthday party of that same person without even thinking twice. Also nothing very important, but still peculiar for me. 

And thirdly, I was about to find out.

A quiet, timid knock on the door hastily dragged me out of my thoughts, and I made a move to bolt upright but paused mid-rise as I heard the handle turn. Curious, I lay back down again, closing my eyes and making my breathing heavier so it seemed as though I was sleeping, but in reality, my eyes weren't completely closed and I couldn't have been more awake. It felt as though I was five years old again, but that didn't quite stop me from doing it even so.

Through the gaps in my eyelids I could just make out a slim figure lurking in my doorway, apparently observing me to make sure that I wasn't awake.

"Malfoy?" Granger whispered, but evidently, I didn't respond. I was intrigued to know what's happen if I didn't, since it clearly sounded like she'd prefer it that way.

After a brief fifteen second long pause, she tiptoed forward and seated herself in my armchair - curling up, to my astonishment, exactly like she had back in the hospital wing.

Before she had the opportunity to fall asleep, I slowly rose from my apparent slumber and rubbed my eyes with a yawn (only to add to the effect), raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing in my room, Granger?"

"Sorry, did I wake you?" She whispered, although my voice hadn't been lowered in the slightest when I spoke. "I didn't mean to, but... I didn't know what else to do."

"What do you mean? Why are you here?"

Silence.

"The nightmare came back. I know I'm probably annoying you right now, with this same old excuse, but I.. I suppose I'm a little scared. Staying beside another person worked last time, and I don't want to wake Ginny considering she must be exhausted after all the party-planning." 

"You're not annoying me, Granger." I hesitated, inching closer towards the side of my bed and consequently making a lot more room on the other side. "But it is really annoying to watch your pitiful expression all day after having a pain in your neck, and I'd rather not witness that again. Come on. I promise I won't pull anything, despite my reputation. I won't even lie anywhere near you. I swear to Merlin."

For a moment or two, she stayed put, and I could see those damned teeth working at her lip again, before she sighed heavily and rose from the armchair. As comfortable as it had been, she probably knew I was right, and I couldn't quite prevent the smug feeling of satisfaction that overwhelmed me right there and then. I'd just bested the bookworm. That was quite the achievement. It only took several seconds for her to cross the room and slide underneath the covers, hugging herself due to the cold, harsh September air. Now that sort of discomfort was one I didn't really have the opportunity to change, but her light shivering came to a halt after a short while.

"Goodnight, Granger."

"Goodnight, Malfoy. And..."

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

"The Slytherin in me is positively aching to state that you're not welcome at all right now." And, even in the dark, I could see the look of utter disappointment that fell upon her face. I would've left it at that, since it would've been rather funny in any other instance, but this wasn't your typical night, after all. 

"But you and I both know that the Slytherin side of me is a compulsive liar."


	7. If I Didn’t Hate You

HERMIONE

When I awoke in the morning, I did so surrounded by a strong heat emanating from a source I couldn't quite pinpoint. It was if I was shrouded in it, but it was a good sort of heat. I wasn't sweating, nor did I feel dehydrated. It was a heat that warmed you on the inside just as much as it did on the outside. Naturally, I didn't question anything and only clung on to this mysterious load of heat - until it moved.

Frowning, I slowly, carefully raised my head, which, as it turned out, had been buried in the neck of Draco bloody Malfoy. I couldn't help but scowl, though as I made a move to pull away from his sleeping form, it dawned on me that his arm was snaked my waist so tightly that I couldn't escape his grasp. I wasn't physically uncomfortable, but technically, it felt weird. 

It was awkward and insanely difficult, however I made one desperate attempt to raise his arm off my hip, but the unwanted movement only made him clutch me even tighter. Crap. I really, really didn't want to have to do this.

"Malfoy?" I whispered, almost inaudibly at first, but when he groaned and tightened his grip I bit my lip and shook him gently. "Malfoy?"

"Hm?"

I breathed a sigh of relief. "You're... spooning me."

"Mhm."

And nothing else. I frowned, pausing for a second and awaiting his response, but nothing else came aside from a couple of gentle snores that indicated he'd gone back to sleep.

"Malfoy." I hissed, a little louder this time, and he opened his eyes to actually meet my gaze. 

"What do you want now, other than to state the obvious again?"

"I want to get up."

"Why? It's a Saturday, and I'm almost positive that you're perfectly comfortable."

"Well, yes, but.. it feels odd."

"I don't particularly like you, Granger, but that isn't stopping me from having a nice long lie-in. Be quiet." The blond mumbled, and when I waited for a while to establish that he genuinely wasn't trying to prank me, discovering he wasn't, I relaxed a little into his arms again. 

It was easy, really, to lie right beside somebody used to loathe with every fibre of my being, as long as I focused on the fact that it was innocent, and purely for comfort. If you looked at it in the logical sense rather than the emotional one, it was actually rather simple. I'd sought comfort in another person after a nightmare that, as always, left me shaken to the core, and Malfoy was peculiarly a willing candidate. People didn't really tend to be in the right state of mind when they were still drowsy. I was sure that, in any other instance, he'd yank himself away from me and hiss that he'd brought shame to all purebloods. 

Nice Malfoy wasn't such a bad Malfoy, though, so I didn't dare break this blessed (metaphorical) spell he'd suddenly been put under. 

It was only after around fifteen to twenty minutes that he must've begun to feel slightly out of place, and his grip loosened enough to be a silent command for me to sit up. I obliged slowly, sliding out from underneath the silk silver sheet and brushing off the oversized shirt I'd slept in - I didn't mean to imply that his bed was dirty, or anything, but it was a habit I hadn't quite fallen out of after the horcrux hunt. Hopefully, he seemed to understand that. 

"So.." I breathed, turning to face him and only just being able to prevent my eyes from widening in alarm at the sight of his bare, pale chest. A rush of heat came to my cheeks and I averted my gaze (I wasn't that much of a prude to hate the thought of a male's torso, but it was Malfoy, so it felt even weirder, especially considering the fact that I'd slept beside him the night previously) but, to my horror, he seemed to notice.

"Like what you see, Gryffindork?"

"Shove off, Malfoy." I bit back, steadying my breathing before inquiring chirpily, "Pixie Puffs?" 

There came no answer as I made my way into the small kitchenette, but I had the decency to make him a bowl anyway, whether or not he decided to ate it. I was part way through pouring the milk in when the sudden realisation of another presence behind me made me squeak in alarm and spin around, splashing a little on my nose. 

Malfoy, naturally, had still failed to put a shirt on. 

Cocking an eyebrow at my reaction, he lifted a finger and wiped the oddly large spot of milk from my nose, shaking his head. "Klutz." He muttered, and became quickly aware of the awkward state I was in, ultimately deciding to take that to his advantage.

"I'll take the answer to my previous question as a yes, then." He added, shooting me a wink before he grabbed the only bowl of cereal that had milk in so far and a spoon, turning to stride over to the sofa. It was only when I made a move to eat my own cereal that I realised I'd been holding my breath ever since, and I sighed heavily, changing my mind about breakfast and retreating to my room to get dressed, with no actual intention of going anywhere that day.

           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DRACO

Once - not too long ago, actually - I'd sincerely believed that I despised Hermione Granger. Perhaps I did - for all I knew, my constant cruel remarks and hexes may have been out of pure spite, out of a personal vendetta against her. But, judging based on recent events, it didn't seem likely.

How on earth could I have looked down on a pure, innocent, kind, intellectual and frankly kind of attractive girl for eight years of my life because I truly hated her? It was obligation that caused me to act the way I did. No wicked action against her was truly personal, in fact. 

But this scared me. Beforehand, the bet made me positively tremble with disgust, but now I'm disgusted that I'm not disgusted at the idea of kissing a muggle-born - or, even worse, Granger. If I was being totally honest, i might've even gone as far as to say I didn't mind it. And yet this was a bet, something I was only doing for the purpose of competitiveness, not my own pleasure in the process. The point of a bet is that you don't enjoy the experience, but the satisfaction of winning is definitely worth the task. 

So why was I no longer dreading this task as much, then?

I didn't like her in the love sort of way, I was certain of that. But there was something about her that didn't quite repel me as much as it used to - unless it was simply me who changed and became more tolerant. She didn't have the same irritating effect on me that she used to. I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The only person I'd ever shown much affection to at all was my mother, really, and Blaise, in a brotherly sort of way. Crabbe and Goyle were merely two imbeciles who trailed after me because they had nothing better to do with their sad lives. They were loyal, but so unbelievably dull that I could never really enjoy their company. 

Granger probably put my odd form of affection that morning down to me being a 'player' and simply wanting that sort of interaction with the female kind. As untrue as it was, I was glad. I didn't want her to discover the real reason was that I was deprived of actual comfort, and she was honestly the ideal candidate for such a person. She was one of few people I liked, and she didn't reject my decision to lie there beside her for just a few more minutes.

Plus, she had this strong, fresh scent of vanilla about her, and that's not such a bad thing to wake up to in the morning.

Stop it, Draco, I hissed mentally to myself, a scowl visible on my face. I was acting like I was totally soft. Years upon years of building up an indestructible wall around my very goddamn soul, only to have some dork come along and merely blow it down as if it was a tower of cards? No. I wouldn't allow it. I couldn't allow it.

But I was anyway, somehow.

It was about 11am when Granger entered our shared common room and stated with every ounce of finality she could probably muster, "You and I are probably friends now. It confuses me immensely, but it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. So, I thought... since this newfound friendship is built on little to nothing, we could spend a little time together, today. It's not as if you have much to do, Malfoy, let's be honest." 

Well, damn, Granger sure new how to make a guy feel good about himself.

"Fine. I don't see much of an issue with that. But I swear, Granger, if you make us have some 'quality studying time' together, this whole thing is over and done with."

"Deal."

"Perfect." I exhaled deeply, still hoping that she'd be at least somewhat fun without the career-driven side of her shining through. If the Boy Who Just Wouldn't Die found her company enjoyable, and he'd been through some of the most unique experiences known to man, surely she couldn't be all that bad.

"So, what's your favourite novel-"

"No, you know what, that's it." I choked out, standing up and waving my hands around dramatically. "This won't work. This is not going to work. No. It hasn't even been ten seconds, Granger. Ten goddamn seconds, and you're already ruining my day." I half expected her to cry, but the only tears rolling down her cheeks were those of laughter, and she was clutching her chest as if it would help her breathe any better.

"What's so funny?"

More laughter.

When she'd finally calmed down, I was sitting facing her, arms spread on each arm of the chair, legs crossed, with the signature Malfoy sneer on my face. "I don't see how what I said was so amusing."

"I was joking, Malfoy."

I blinked. The sneer disappeared from my face almost instantly.

"What?"

"It was a joke. I was messing with you."

"Oh, dear Merlin, thank you." I gasped, rolling my eyes at her little prank and sitting forward again. "Anyway, moving on from this... frankly kind of embarrassing moment, what do you actually expect us to do, then? It's not as if you can play quidditch, or ride a broom in general-" I cut myself off, technically, but I don't know what else Granger expected when her face flushed a bright red and she had to avoid my gaze. 

"That was a joke, but... wow. You really don't know how to fly?"

"I hate it." 

"But you flew in the Room of Requirement, when there was that fire. With Potter and Weasel."

"Oh, no, trust me, I know how to, and I will do so without much thought at all if I fear that I'm in danger. Plus, your lives were at risk too. I suppose it was a sense of duty. Anyway, I just... I detest it. I'm terrified of falling. Knowing that there's merely one small stick of wood keeping me hundreds of feet up in the air is nauseating to me. I don't know how you can handle it."

"Aw, Granger, you were so scared that I was going to die, you momentarily overcame your fear of flying to save me." I cooed teasingly, pretending to ignore the rest of her sentence. Despite my strong intentions to alter myself for the better, I'd never not get a kick out of taunting her. 

"Shove it, Malfoy."

I chuckled. "Where?"

"Well, I would say up your arse, but your own head is so bloody far up there already that I'm afraid there isn't much room left, so anywhere will do." She grinned, batting her eyelashes in an act of faux innocence and lifting her feet to rest on the ottoman just beside the coffee table. 

"Ouch. Anyway... I know I've been a douche, which you're clearly aware of too, judging by your totally uncalled for input, there, so I'm going to make up for it."

"How so?" She asked, an eyebrow raised.

"I'm going to help you fly."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

HERMIONE

"Malfoy, I think this is quite possibly the worst idea you've ever had in all our years of knowing each other. And you tried to have a Hippogriff murdered, so that's saying something." The words were tumbling out of my mouth in a nervous flurry, and it surprised me that the blonde behind me could actually comprehend what I was saying.

"It's Draco, actually, Hermione. You want us to be friends so badly, so act like it. And it's a fantastic idea. What harm can flying do, really?"

"Uhm, I don't know, death?"

"You're so dramatic." He retorted, steadying himself so he wouldn't fall when we actually lifted off (I'd refused to have my own broom because if I messed up then there was nobody there to save me, essentially). 

"That's rich, coming from you."

"Uh, no, Hermione, I think you'll find that I'm the rich one here."

"Oh, sod off."

The playful banter was, in some weird way, comforting. I was focusing on trying to insult Draco when he made little remarks, rather than the fear I was potentially about to overcome. It felt normal. As if I wasn't just a few minutes from hovering several feet above the ground with my sworn enemy. 

"So, Hermione... whilst you're evidently trying to gain composure before actually flying, which is really rather pathetic of you since it's nothing too scary, really, may I ask you; did you like what you saw this morning? I did ask, but you never responded. Now that you have no room to escape to, I'll hopefully get an answer out of you."

I was facing the opposite direction, but that didn't matter - I could still practically feel the smirk on his face, the raised eyebrow, the glint of mischief in his eye knowing that he was beginning to annoy me. "As a matter of fact, I didn't, really. Way too pale. You're like Edward Cullen in that one scene in the Twilight movie."

"I'm not even going to pretend I know what that is. And ouch. So, because I'm pale, I'm instantly unattractive?"

"Definitely."

"But you used to fancy Weasley."

Crap. It didn't take a genius to realise that Ron wasn't exactly the most tanned person in the world, so there was no use denying that.

"...fine. It was just a chest, Draco, there's nothing special about it."

"If that's so, then why do you always see shirtless wizards on the front page of magazines, and huge crowds of girls aching for even a peek? 'Nothing special' my arse, even a blind witch would feel something when looking at a chest."

"I'm not every ordinary witch."

"If you insist."

"You're just.. not my type, okay?"

"I'm everyone's type."

"Not mine."

"I'm. Everyone's. Type."

"You're really egotistical, aren't you?"

"Not egotistical. Just factual."

"Sure."

"Aha! See. You admitted that I'm factual, and therefore everybody's type, and therefore your type."

"Have you ever heard of sarcasm, Draco?"

"You know what, come to think of it, that word seems rather foreign to me, all of a sudden."

I groaned, hiding my face in one hand, the other, naturally, was still clutching the broom. I was facing Malfoy, now, and I realised that I had been since the beginning of our argument. I was only just now noticing it because I wasn't focused on verbally destroying him. 

"Anyway, to sum it up, I didn't like what I saw, nor will I ever. Your body has no effect on me."

"Mhm? Yeah? I have proof that you're lying."

"Care to share?"

"Not right now."

"Oh, you pig."

"I thought I was a ferret."

"You're both. You're a pig-ferret hybrid."

"A fig?"

"I was going for a pigget. It sounds funnier."

"Nothing you say is funny, Hermione."

"Oh, sod off."

"And where am I supposed to 'sod' to?"

"I don't know, over there." And I pointed to nowhere in particular - someplace to my left, and that was all I knew - until I followed my hand and realised after fifteen seconds of squinting and staring that my finger was on level with the roof of a tower. Odd, I thought. My arm is completely horizontal.

And, then, I let out a squeak of surprise, because it only just dawned on me that we were about a hundred feet up in the air. Draco had apparently been arguing with me to distract me.

"Draco, no, what are you doing?"

"Helping you overcome your fears. Honestly, you're quite slow, aren't you?" He was grinning, either at his own successful trick or at my reaction to it.

"No, this isn't funny. This is no laughing matter. I demand that you set us down at once. Please."

"Give me one good reason, Hermione."

"Because, I-" I desperately wanted to scream that I was absolutely terrified, but I knew roughly what his response would be. That I saved the entire wizarding world, and that wasn't exactly a piece of cake, so what's so different about flying a broom? The truth was that there was no good reason. I just hated being there.

"I thought as much. I'm not going to set us down until you think of an adequate reason for me to do so. Now, while we're at it - do you want me to teach you how to steer this thing?"

I sighed. "You might as well."

"Brilliant. Now, it's simple really, you just focus your mind and soul and especially your hands. It'll be difficult, but try and manoeuvre the broom to one side. Tilt your body, too, you go a little faster."

I did as he said, and, to my immediate astonishment, it worked. Not only that, but I was becoming more convinced that I wasn't in danger of plummeting to my ultimate death from the broom. We were facing the castle, now, standing grand and grey just half a mile away from our current position. 

"There we go, see. You're a natural."

"I wouldn't go that far, but... I am pretty good at this." My lips were practically forced up into a smile that I simply couldn't resist, and a laugh escaped my mouth. Flying had been the one thing I always vowed not to do. And, just like that, I could actually manage it.

"Where do you want to go?" The Slytherin behind me inquired, the question lingering in the air whilst I pondered for a while over where exactly I aimed to explore with this newfound freedom. 

"I know a place." My voice was lower, almost a whisper, but Draco didn't seem to notice this sudden change in tone. He merely nodded, gesturing with his hands for me to lead the way, and I did. Half of the ride wasn't exactly smooth, as I was still only just getting the hang of things, but by the time we'd almost arrived at this spot, it was as if I'd been practising for years.

"Now, if I show you this place... you have to swear that you'll never utter a word of it to anybody else. As far as I know, I'm the only person who knows of it, and other than you, I'd rather keep it that way."

"I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Thank you."

We landed, and I propped the broom against the trunk of a tree that was on the outskirts of the forbidden forest.

"Hermione, obviously nobody else is going to know about it if it's in here. This forest is, y'know, forbidden."

"Yeah, yeah. You should know better than anybody that those rules are made to be broken."

"Touché."

And I practically dived into the undergrowth, lifting my legs as high as possible to avoid being stung by the nettles underfoot, swatting thin branches out of the way so I didn't walk into them. This part of the forest was dense, and despite the rays of sunlight beaming through the gaps in the trees, it was still difficult to see. After around thirty more seconds of walking, and by the time the blonde beside me looked like he was about to begin whining, we reached an abnormally large bush, planted in the middle of nowhere in particular.

"Wow, Gryffindork. Pretty bush."

"Shut up." I hissed, taking my wand out of my pocket and pointing it at the mass of leaves. "Revelio."

Slowly, the thick, gnarled branches retreated into the ground, dragging the leaves along with them, and the remaining thin ones all snapped and became scattered all over the floor, to reveal a large, untarnished rose garden, as if it had been left untouched for its entire existence. A marble fountain was in the very centre of it, though it was only small. I'd assumed that the creators of it didn't want to ruin the natural beauty of it.

"This is the place I come to when I need to be alone. Now... you can come here whenever you want, I suppose, there's nothing stopping you."

"Wow, 'Mione, I'm honoured and all, and I'm glad we're friends, but giving me a rose garden? This is too much." His jaw was wide open in an expression of faux disbelief, but he smiled instantly after, and I knew he was only kidding; hoped he actually did like it.

"It's stunning, I know, albeit simple." I acknowledged, seating myself on one of the carefully carved log benches. "It's special to me, though. And I know that you're not one for sentimentality, but I didn't bring you here for that reason. You asked me where I wanted to go, so I came here. I probably shouldn't have, but-"

"It's great." He interrupted me, still dragging his eyes along the scene before him. "It reminds me of the gardens at home, there's a section dedicated entirely to this flower. Mother claims that it's just because they look classy, but I know that they were Aunt Andromeda's favourite, and I can tell she misses her." 

A scowl replaced the wistful smile on his face, then, and he shook his head aggressively, as if trying to rid himself of whatever memory or feeling he was currently experiencing. "Why am I telling you this, exactly?"

"Because it's something you've never told anybody before, and you feel the need to."

"Smartass."

"I know."

"No, I'm being serious." He paused then, rolling his eyes for a fragment of a moment. "If I didn't hate you, then I'd find it rather... good. Having spent years with two imbeciles, finding people with your intellect is rare."

"Really? Draco, if I didn't hate you, then I'd be outwardly wary of the competition. You're not exactly stupid, you know."

"Tell me something I don't know." He retorted, but I could still see a faint shadow of a smile on his lips. 

"If you insist. Something you don't know is that... if I didn't hate you, I think you and I could've been pretty good friends, by now."

"That's nice, but, uh, I had this raging anger towards all muggleborns, so that might have stood in the way."

"I doubt it." He scoffed, but that couldn't dissuade me from continuing anyway. "Your family were openly on the side of Lord Voldemort. That didn't stop you from trying to befriend Harry, Voldemort's sworn enemy."

"You have a point... and that gives me another idea. If I didn't hate you, I would offer you my hand..." and he did as he said, holding out his hand to me and smirking slightly. "...and request your friendship."

"Oh, Draco, if I didn't hate you, I might even shake your hand." And, naturally, I followed suit, taking his hand firmly in mine and shaking it, just as I'd said.

"Well, damn. That's never happened to me before."

"There's I first time for everything." I remarked, unable to suppress a smile. 

"Good point. One more example... have you ever been gifted a rose, before?"

"I can't say that I have." I paused, humming thoughtfully. "Somebody gave me a bouquet of chrysanthemums once, but no roses."

"Chrysanthemums? That's tragic." 

I shot the blonde a half-hearted glare, and he looked almost apologetic in return, which obviously surprised me a little.

"Anyway, Hermione." He cleared his throat, turning to carefully pluck the scarlet flower from the bush, holding it gently by the stem to avoid pricking himself on the thorn. "If I didn't hate you, I'd give you this. As a token of my appreciation, for giving me a seco- another chance." 

"Well thank you, kind sir." I giggled, almost like a child, and twirled it loosely in my hands, admiring the beautiful simplicity of the rose.

"One minute, one minute." Draco mumbled, retrieving his wand from his pocket and pointing it directly at the flower. "Vitam Aeternam." He whispered, and a sprinkle of dust appeared to fall from the tip of his wand and over the flower. "It's a spell I found, in an old book. From the restricted section, of course. It means-"

"Eternal life." I finished, almost breathlessly, overwhelmed by the sentimentality of the action - and by Draco Malfoy, of all people.

"Told you you're a smartass." But his tone was playful, a grin was still playing on his lips. It was different to how he'd insult me in the past. He'd call me a 'geek', or made some remark about how I'd want to 'get it on' with a teacher (but that was when we were a little older, obviously). Now, it was just harmless teasing, and it almost felt good. I'd hated it when he made my life miserable, but it was just like it had always been, except he wasn't cruel to me, now. And I hated change. I detested it, even. So I was glad that there was still a glimmer of how we used to be, even if I did loathe my past with him. 

"Very funny, Malfoy. And... this is beautiful. Thank you." I replied sincerely, an awkward smile on my lips, and I placed the rose gently on my lap so I wouldn't forget it when we returned to the castle.

"You're most welcome. Now, we haven't been here for long, but it's almost lunch, so I think that it's best if we get back. I'm assuming that you want to be the one to control the broom?"

I pondered over his words for a while. Of course I'd love to fly a broom. When you discover that you can do something you were always too nervous to do, it's human instinct to practically wear that new ability out.

But not me. No, as excited as I was to ride this broom back, our little trip outside the castle was going too well. I found myself actually hoping it wouldn't end. Who knew that I'd ever be craving a little time to bond with Draco Malfoy.

"I think we should stay outside for a while. Not here; it's beautiful, but it's my thinking spot. It isn't supposed to be particularly fun. Let's go to..."

"The Black Lake?"

I grinned. "You read my mind."

"It is a fantastic idea, but - it's almost October. The water will be freezing."

"It sounds to me as if you're scared, Malfoy." I retorted smugly, crossing my arms after tucking the rose safely into my purse, which had a charm on it to make the interior a lot larger. At home, when I spoke about it to my parents, I called it my 'Mary Poppins Magic Carpet Bag'. It was childish, I knew, but I said it once and the nickname stuck. 

"Scared? Me? Never. You should be scared." And, abandoning the broom (I assumed that he'd simply use the summoning charm to retrieve it later. Or just buy a new one) he picked me up against my own will and carried my about two hundred feet to the lake. 

"Draco, let go of me, what are you doing? Let me go." I squealed, but this only encouraged him, and he stood over the edge of the lake, so I was hovering above it with only his arms to support me. "I'm going to fall."

"Only if you s-" and, stupidly, I attempted to wriggle out of his grasp, which only resulted in me slipping straight into the freezing water. "Struggle." He finished, laughing almost manically. 

"Get me out. It's c-cold."

"No shit, Sherlock." He muttered sarcastically, but the Slytherin held out a hand to pull me out of the water anyway.

I'd seen the beginning of The Parent Trap already, though. There was no way I was letting him get away with that, and what better way to get payback than to mimic the actions of a character from one of my favourite childhood movies? 

Naturally, I took his hand, catching him off guard as I made a move to stand up and then pulling him straight into the water with me, giggling mischievously as I did so. He let out a yelp that was so utterly comical, I had to clutch on to him to avoid becoming weak with laughter and slipping under the water because I couldn't hold myself up. 

"Is my misery funny to you? Hm? Well, how do you like this?" And, paddling back a foot or two, he dragged his hand forward through the water and sent a large wave crashing over me, drenching me with water. At least my hair had been relatively dry when he dropped me. Now, I feared that I genuinely resembled a drowned rat.

"Oh, you little..." but I trailed off, my focus now on the water surrounding me and Draco, who looked like he was beginning to regret what he'd just done. 

"Granger, no-"

"Granger, yes." I laughed as I sent an even larger wave over to him, splashing him squarely in the face. It was still freezing, but I think we were both forgetting about the temperature of the water, after time. "You've got a little something on your face..." I stated, faking innocence, head tilted slightly in faux confusion. 

"Oh really? So do you, actually."

I frowned. I was sure that the water had all run off by now, and I at least looked relatively dry. "No I d-" and I was cut off by another mass of water hitting me from his direction, taking me by surprise. Before I had the chance to get him back, though, he was sprinting out of the water and back across the field towards the castle.

"Can't get me now." He chanted repeatedly, acting more like a child than he ever had in the years that I'd known him. I scoffed, picking up my wand.

"Are you sure? Aguamenti." I finished with a whisper, and a stream of water came hurtling out of the tip of my wand, drenching him once again.

"That was cruel." He scoffed, shaking his head before pausing thoughtfully, and ultimately beginning to chase me. We sprinted right into the castle, up the steps to our common room, and flopped down, exhausted, on the sofa.

"You know what, Draco?" I asked, turning to face him and raising an eyebrow. "If I didn't hate you, I'd say that this morning has been one of the best I've had in weeks." And, giving him absolutely no room to reply, I gave him a brief hug in spite of our sopping wet clothes before hurtling into my bedroom to change, a wide smile on my lips the entire time.

 

A/N: So this chapter was a short one, I'm aware, and I put nowhere near as much detail into it as I usually would, but it's killing me writing so many chapters in which they're only friends and NOTHING MORE. It's honestly dreadful. And I'm sure that you, as a reader, immensely prefer the romantic side of Dramione, so I can't wait to get to that for you guys, either.


	8. Silver Eyes

DRACO

I'd always been a liar. 

Always. Since my first year at this school, I'd twisted the slightest fibs into major ordeals, mostly to ensure that another student was severely punished for my own sick pleasure. I'd declared that I'd wait to have a duel with Potter after curfew, and then snitched on him when he was waiting for me. 

I'd always sneak an additional cookie or two after lunch at home, being the over-excited twelve year old that I was, and then claim that perhaps the house-elves just didn't make the amount they were supposed to. 

And it went without saying that the Buckbeak incident was not my finest hour. My wound was like a (slightly deeper) elongated paper cut, and I'd acted as though my arm might've had to be amputated. That was mostly for the attention from Pansy and for people to turn on Pothead, though. Not necessarily to have the beast killed. Though, at the time, it was rather reassuring to me that I had the power to have a magical creature sentenced to death, as horrible as it might sound.

And, more often than I'd lied to other people, I'd lied to myself. I was always in denial, always a firm believer of constant strength - that visible signs of weakness were wrong. When I felt low, I was always determined to reject that idea, and I was insistent that I was fine. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why I did settle for joining the darker side during the war, after all. It was easier, in the sense that everyone else told me to do it, so I didn't want to argue against myself. 

I'd liked to think that I changed after the war. And I had. I was proud of it. I'd been told by several people that I was kinder, now, more tranquil - still rather arrogant, mind you, but very much a changed man. 

One thing that hadn't changed was the denial and the lying, though. Because for the entire duration of my trip on the castle grounds with Hermione (it still felt odd using her forename), I'd been desperately trying to convince myself that it was all part of the bet. I merely wanted to gain her friendship, so we could grow closer, and kiss in time for Halloween. 

But sometimes, when we were talking mindlessly about nothing in particular, or diving around in the murky waters of the Black Lake, I completely forgot about the bet aspect of it. We were just a muggle-born Gryffindor and a pure-blooded Slytherin, fooling around in the crisp autumn air, untroubled after the horrors of the battle. Free to form our own friendship without having half of the wizarding world looking down on it, and perfectly happy to do so.

And that was the moment I finally realised that I'd been lying to myself. It wasn't for the bet. Our friendship wasn't fake. We'd been having civilised conversations even before the bet, so how could that even be true? Plus, again, I wasn't cruel anymore unless it was absolutely necessary that I had to be - and there had yet to be such an occasion. There was no way that the new Draco would be so manipulative. I'd worked hard towards the person I'd become today, and I wasn't going to throw it away for Theodore Nott.

Grang- Hermione emerged from her bedroom around half an hour later, totally dry, whilst I was lounging on the sofa in exactly the same state - either the brunette had forgotten that there were spells for that, or she still felt a hint of nostalgia for the muggle world. Probably the latter. The brightest witch of an entire age doesn't simply forget about a spell.

"I was thinking," she began, flopping down on the sofa facing me and crossing her arms, "that we really need to begin working on this Halloween Ball. It's a really big deal for the school, as it's pretty much the first major event since the battle, and it'd do everyone good. It's been a while since everyone was equally happy in this castle, and you and I both know it."

I hummed in agreement, because she was right, she practically always was. Most students had settled in again, but there was always the select few who still moped around the school in emotional agony, a smile very rarely seen on their face. "Right, so, how are we going to go about this? It's difficult to plan a party for hundreds of students."

"I know, I know. Like the Yule Ball, there'll be a curfew from years one to five - should we say 11pm? And maybe 1am for those in the years above, since it's a Saturday, anyway, so there aren't any classes the day after."

"Good point. When should it start? I think about 4:30. It gives people enough time to get ready after lunch."

"That's a good idea. I may also ask Professor McGonagall for a trip to Hogsmeade the weekend before, too, so people can buy costumes."

"Perfect."

"I know." The Gryffindor retorted smugly, thought the small grin that crossed her face afterwards indicated that she'd been joking.

"How modest." Came my sarcastic retort.

"That's rich, coming from a Slytherin."

"Touché."

An astonishingly contagious laugh escaped her lips then, because I found myself chuckling slightly too - even though I once would've scowled when my house was being insulted. Not even a year ago, I was Pro-Slytherin, Pro-Pureblood; Pro-Voldemort, even. It was relieving how much I could change in such a short period of time.

But it was also disturbing. If it was so easy to change for the better, it couldn't be any more difficult to slip back into my old habits. I was treading on thin ice, and I knew it. Heck, maybe even Granger knew it. She was smart enough, at least. I just hoped that this potential knowledge wouldn't alter her opinion of me, because she was alright, really. Perhaps I could've taken a different path if I'd offered her my hand instead of Potter.

"What are you going to be?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"For the ball." The brunette clarified, and I furrowed my eyebrows.

"You don't seriously think I'm going to that blasted thing, right?"

"What do you mean, of course you're going." She spluttered, with a mild resemblance to my mother, when she'd always 'persuade' (and by that, I mean force) me to attend her little parties. 

"Why on earth am I going to go to a ball, Granger?"

"Because- well- you- you went to the Yule Ball."

"Publicity. Voldemort was about to return, and I knew it. If we formed a public alliance with the Parkinsons, since I went with Pansy, and they weren't well-known death eaters, then we wouldn't look as bad. Pansy's family saved our arses, basically. We would've been targeted a lot faster if I didn't go. It would've been fishy."

"You're honestly telling me that your former loyalty to Voldemort was enough to convince you, but the fact that you're throwing this thing isn't? Wow." She scoffed, and for reasons I couldn't quite understand, her disappointment triggered a pang in my heart. 

"No, Granger, I'm telling you that my desperation to not be constantly pressured and taunted by Rita Skeeter throughout my school year was enough to convince me."

That shut her up, aside from the small squeak of an 'oh', and her cheeks flushed red. "I'm-"

"Don't apologise. It's nothing I'm bothered about anymore."

"Okay, well... that's good. I didn't mean to offend you, honestly. I don't blame you for taking sides. I just... i don't want this ball to fail. Like Professor McGonagall said, it's something to cheer everybody up. I can't risk it all falling apart underneath me, because people are still hurt after the war. I need to keep a strong front, and... if you're there, I might just be able to do that." After a momentary pause and a glance at my mildly bemused look, the brunette blushed slightly and added, "because you helped me plan the ball, of course, and I won't feel like I'm to blame."

"I'll consider it, Granger. But not because you asked. Because it might do me some good after all."

"Sure, Malfoy." She retorted with a hint of a smile, and went back to scribbling decoration ideas down. "The Weird Sisters have to perform, obviously. It's hardly Halloween without them."

"That's true."

But my remark seemingly went unheard (or ignored) by her, because the moment she'd finished her own sentence, she seemed to be rapidly forming her own idea. "Who are you going with?" 

"Pardon?"

"I mean, to the ball. Who will be your... company?"

"And why does that concern you?" I quizzed, raising an eyebrow as I fought back a smirk. Mocking her wouldn't pressure her to tell me the truth, exactly, so I managed to hold back.

"It doesn't. I'm just curious, I suppose."

"Well, if you're allowed to be curious, then so am I. Who will you be going to the ball with, Granger?"

"Considering most people don't know about it just yet, and my two best friends won't be there... I have no clue."

"Fair enough." I concluded with a sigh, grabbing another piece of parchment and making a start on rewriting the final arrangements to give to McGonagall. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was when we were both making our way over to the Headmistress' Office (which still looked identical to when it was Dumbledore's, as she'd never had the heart to change it) that we both saw him. I'd wondered why he'd been so quiet and hidden for so long, and I was partially thankful, but, at the same time, I knew he was plotting something. He always was.

"Malfoy. 'Mione." Nott greeted, easily switching his bitter hiss to his 'gentle' drawl when he uttered each of our names. I tensed slightly, and Hermione seemed to notice, because the sceptical look she'd had since she first spotted him had grown somewhat darker. "Ah, you two together now, are you? That's something interesting for the papers. I'm sure Rita Skeeter would love this. Oh, Malfoy, and your parents."

"We're not together." I muttered through gritted teeth, because I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to discreetly figure out whether I'd won the bet or not, and not-so-discreetly make things awkward between myself and Hermione if I hadn't yet.

"How delightful." He smirked, and I glanced at the brunette beside me, amazed at how she was able to actually tolerate this boy, but her face was like stone. "Because, I'm here to ask you if you'll do me the honour of accompanying me to the ball that I'm hearing rumours about."

"It was supposed to be a secret." I hissed to her, knowing we probably should've made sure we selected the prefects that were actually trustworthy to help us. But my words fell upon deaf ears, because when I turned to look at her, I noticed that her stoniness had softened. I frowned, but held no real grudge. Everyone knew how much it had hurt her in our fourth year when Weasley failed to ask her to the Yule Ball and, instead, she had to settle with some Bulgarian.

"What about 'Tori'?' She said, in a lightly mocking voice, but nothing, I noticed, that would intentionally scare him away, or give the impression that she would say no. 

"She's not coming, she's going to see her sister. Which I'm rather glad about, because she's so annoying."

"Oh?" Hermione retorted, actually intrigued about his offer, apparently, to my horror. And all I could do was stand there and blink in confusion. If I tried to stop it, it'd make me look either jealous or cruel. But there had to be some other way.

"So," he continued, clearing his throat, "will you accept my offer?"

"Why me?" She asked, and I silently cheered. At least she was questioning it. Putting him off, hopefully.

"Why not? You're smart, beautiful, and I think we'd make a dashing pair."

"Well..." she was blushing, and I couldn't help myself, then. It would've taken the experience of Merlin and Nicholas Flamel combined to give me the ability to restrain myself from objecting.

"Actually, Nott, I think you'll find that Hermione already has somebody to go with to the ball." I drawled, slinging an arm around her shoulders for effect. She didn't tense up. In fact, she seemed slightly relieved, albeit surprised.

His face darkened. "I see."

"Thank Merlin. Now you can leave us alone." I said, sighing in relief and positively relishing the fury on his face. It wasn't often that I managed to piss Theodore Nott off, but when I did, his reaction was priceless, even if it wasn't quite as dramatic as I would've hoped.

For once, he obliged, and, with a snarl, he spun on his heel and stalked off in the other direction, hands shoved in his pockets.

"What was that about?" The Gryffindor beside me asked, trying (and failing) to keep her voice chirpy.

"That was Nott, trying to flirt with a girl so he could hook up with her and ultimately destroy her reputation. It's not the first time that's happened."

"No, that part's rather self-explanatory. I meant the entire... who's-going-with-whom ordeal. That was just to scare Theo away, right?"

"Well, damn, Princess, you know how to turn a guy down discreetly, don't you?" I retorted, clutching my chest and feigning heartbreak. The nickname frustrated her, I knew. Despite her former ache for recognition, she often stated that it was a little tiring being singled out as Gryffindor's Golden Girl. That's why I occasionally called her Princess. It was really rather funny - if I dared to say so myself.

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy." Hermione retorted with a quiet hmph, but if I didn't know any better, I would've thought that I saw a faint blush on her cheeks nevertheless. "I wasn't turning your down. But, since Nott was probably my only other shot at company, and I wasn't actually keen on him in the first place... I guess I don't mind." I did a double take. Even though I'd somehow earned the title of being a 'Slytherin Sex God' (I say 'somehow' because I'd never actually done it, since the girls I know are repulsive), I wasn't a stranger to rejection or disgust, to put it lightly.

"Do you mean to say that you do want to go with me, Granger?" I spluttered, an almost invisible smirk flickering on my lips.

"I suppose it can't hurt. We are friends now, after all. As long as you don't try to... pull anything."

"I knew you couldn't resist my charm."

"Oh, shove off, Malfoy. Don't push it."

A chuckle escaped my lips, but after that, we finished our journey to McGonagall's office in a comfortable silence, if you didn't count the tapping of our shoes echoing around the stone hall and the occasional first year sprinting round the corner after their escaped cat. I usually would've spent this bit of free time devising some witty comment to input at some point during the day, but instead, my attention was elsewhere. It wasn't often, as I didn't want to alarm her or make it seem like I had untrustworthy intentions, but every time I managed to sneak a glance at the freckled, slender figure beside me, to my horror, my heartbeat grew just a little more intense.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HERMIONE 

I should've been furious. 

Before my fame from the war, I'd always craved recognition from the opposite gender, instead of constantly being labelled a 'Plain Jane' or a nerd, or sniggered at for my buck teeth and untameable hair. 4th-year-me would've burst with excitement at the opportunity to go to a ball with Theodore Nott, despite his reputation. Don't get me wrong, I had no attraction to him at all, and I probably never would've dated him. But at least I would've gone with somebody.

I should've been furious at Malfoy for blowing my only chance to have company at this ball, as it'd be incredibly embarrassing for the hostess to have no date. But I wasn't. Because by ruining my chance to have a date, he gave me a better one.

Himself.

I used to loathe Draco with every fibre of my being, honestly, I did. So you could understand why it confused me when I felt total relief at the realisation that I could go with him instead of Nott.

We were back in the common room, lounging on an armchair each whilst we both left the other person to their thoughts. It'd been silent for about half an hour, and though I did need some time to think, I craved a conversation. I was unsure of why I wanted to talk to Draco so badly, of course - but I just put it down to loneliness, due to the absence of Harry and Ron. Deep down, I didn't believe that excuse in the slightest. But what other reason could there possibly be?

"Why did you do it?" I blurted suddenly - it was a particularly awkward question, and I never intended on asking it aloud, but it was the first thing that popped into my head. Besides, it was something that I would've loved to know the answer to. Whether he gave it or not was his choice. 

"Do what?" He said slowly, seemingly indifferent, but I could tell from the way his mouth twitched every now and then that he knew exactly what I was referring to.

"You know... lie to Nott and say that we were going together. Of course, it's not a lie now, but-" Draco feigned offence, and I shot him a half-hearted scowl. "Oh, you know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah, I do. I'm just teasing you." A low chuckle escaped his lips, which remained curved into a slight smile, but it was wiped away as soon as he seemingly realised that he actually had to answer the question I'd asked. "I suppose that, other than the fact that I was genuinely trying to save you from Theowhore, you're the only person I could imagine myself going with to that blasted ball. It's unheard of for a Malfoy to turn up to an event alone. My only other trustworthy female friend is Pansy - who isn't so disturbingly desperate anymore, before you comment." He added as he noticed my disgusted scoff. "And she's going with some Ravenclaw."

"So... I'm just a backup plan?"

"Please, Granger. You should be grateful that we're going together at all." He remarked with a playful wink, leaning back in his armchair.

"Grateful? Oh, I must've gotten that wrong, then. I'm a pity date?" 

I was joking, of course, but he wasn't aware of that yet, because what little colour there was in his cheeks to begin with practically drained from his face.

"Of course not. That was a joke, I promise." He stated, his demeanour relatively calm, but his hand was twitching on the arm of the chair where it was placed and blowing his relaxed façade.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, and he nodded a little too quickly in confirmation. "Well, good. I'd rather not be used. It doesn't sound fun, being another one of your one-off dates to something, whether we're friends or not."

My confession had seemed to make Malfoy's collectedness disappear, and he was his cocky (though not cruel, as I'd picked up on these past few weeks) self once again. "I'm fairly certain that I know the answer to this, Granger, but have you ever even been on a date?"

I scoffed. "That's a little intrusive, don't you think?" 

"Not really, it's a simple question. And, before your opinion of what I said changes your answer, just to clarify, I didn't mean that I'd know the answer to it because you're unloveable or whatever. I was referring to the fact that your entire life has been plastered all over the Daily Prophet, and other than Krum, Potty and Weasel, there hasn't been another male figure in your life."

"Have you been keeping tabs on me, Malfoy?"

"How else am I supposed to find the perfect material to taunt you with? Honestly, I thought you were supposed to be intelligent."

I scoffed, shaking my head gently, barely feeling the slight bounce of my curls on my shoulders in comparison to when the movement was a little more aggressive. "Anyways, if you must know... no, I haven't. I had one planned with another person - who isn't Viktor, may I add - but... something came up. I prefer not to talk about it." I stated, my tone containing every inch of finality I could muster. Draco opened his mouth to make what I assumed would be another smart-aleck retort, but he seemingly decided against it and closed it again.

"That's fair enough. And, I can relate." I shot him a skeptical look, and he sighed in defeat, eventually adding, "I didn't take girls on dates because most of them were just flings."

"You're despicable, Draco."

"You love me really." He retorted teasingly, somehow earning a chuckle from me. "Anyway, to sum it up, yeah. I think I could call us friends, now, Granger, so why wouldn't I go to the ball with you?"

"Aren't you-" but I stopped myself from asking the question I'd been aching to ask him, for the sake of not making things awkward. It was a particularly obvious one, and it had probably already crossed his mind, but, in case it hadn't, I refrained from saying it.

"Scared of what the other purebloods might think?" I sighed in relief and nodded, glad that he knew where I was going with that question. "As you, yourself, have said multiple times, Hermione - it's a new year. A new beginning, if you will. Blood purity isn't such a big deal anymore. I don't think there'll be much drama surrounding us going together. Heck, I have pureblood friend who are marrying muggle-borns to prove their newfound tolerance of every human being. I'm not saying that we should get married, or anything, that was an example." He finished hastily, but I payed no attention, purely so he wouldn't be embarrassed at the knowledge that I'd noticed his accidental implication.

"So... they aren't marrying them for love? I'm not sure which is worse."

"I said it's a new age, Hermione, not a perfect one." He grimaced, and I hummed in agreement, as we settled back into silence. 

I glanced back up at Draco once or twice, though he never seemed to notice, his eyes fixed intently on the flickering fire, the amber hues dancing in his silver irises as if they were actually in them, instead of just reflecting off of them. When I was your typical 11 year old, and before I learned what an arrogant prick he was, I'd find myself catching sight of his silver eyes on numerous occasions. I'd been fascinated with them - almost as much as I'd been fascinated with the enchanting paintings on the ceiling of the great hall, if not more so.

I never knew why that was - mostly because, when I learned of his true persona, it embarrassed me to think back to the time when I was totally captured by his eyes. I had a hunch now, though, seeing them now, as bright and glowing as ever.

I was so in love with the Great Hall's ceiling artwork because of its intricacy, and the fact that it's always change to match the weather. It was so extraordinary, after living your whole life seeing things as simple (albeit unique and iconic) as the Mona Lisa, or structures like the Eiffel Tower, to see an actual moving painting depicting the same weather you'd see if you stepped outside. 

Draco's eyes were the same, in a sense. They always portrayed his mood almost perfectly - the silver grew darker when he was angry, or duller when he was bored or sad, or brighter when he was happy or had an idea. There was a mischievous twinkle when he was up to no good, that always blew his cover, though I wasn't sure anyone else had noticed, as he still managed to perfect his pranks or schemes. 

The difference with his eyes, though, were that they were simple and accidental. Nobody had looked at him and vowed to make his eyes the most stunning artwork they'd ever seen - he was born that way. Born a masterpiece, you could say. The ceiling of the great hall had probably taken decades to perfect, but, no, Draco was naturally... beautiful, you could put it.

I thought it unusual that he hadn't noticed I was staring, yet, so I focused back on the bigger picture instead of the flecks of silver in his eyes, and saw him looking directly at me, eyebrows raised, lips curled into a smug smirk.

"Like what you see, Granger?"

"Shove it, Malfoy."

"Shove it where, exactly?" I knew what the issue was. I'd boosted his ego. He'd caught me staring, and instantly assumed that I was admiring him.

I mean, I was, I suppose, but that was beside the point.

"I didn't mean it literally."

"Sure you didn't, Hermione. I think we both know that you're totally craving a piece of me, at this point. Can't even avert your eyes when we're in the same room, can't you?"

"Bite me."

"Kinky."

"That was also not meant literally. God, you're such a.... an arrogant prick." I growled, crossing my arms.

"Why were you staring, Granger?"

"I wasn't!"

"Oh, really?"

"Well... I was, technically."

"Aha!"

"But it was one of those instances where I was merely... staring into space. I wasn't looking at you particularly, my mind simply wandered off and you were apparently the point I decided to focus on."

My excuse made little sense, but Malfoy somehow seemed to relate, because his face dropped at the realisation that he'd lost just a little. "If you insist. Still, though, I'm flattered, and all, but I'm not interested."

Though he was just continuing the joke, his words stung a little, for some unbeknownst reason. ‘I’m not interested’ wasn’t exactly the most complimentary phrase I’d ever received from him, to say the least. But, deep down, part of me felt like it was something deeper than that. If anybody else said it, would I have laughed along with the joke instead? Or would I have been just as offended?

“Good. My aim in life isn’t to interest you, Draco.”

“I think life would be a lot more fun if it was, Hermione.” He shot me a teasing wing, and I scowled, remaining silent to end the conversation, but I couldn’t help but be thankful when he turned his attention back to the fire because I was sure that I felt my face heat up - and not from the flames in front of us.


	9. 7 Minutes In Heaven

DRACO

It was mid-October now. The day of the Halloween Ball was drawing nearer and nearer, and, ultimately, so was the date of the bet deadline.

It was only natural that Nott tried his best to provoke me with the constant reminder of my impending doom as much as possible - I couldn't blame the asshat, I would've done the same thing - and he didn't fail in the slightest. 

I wasn't sure whether I was relieved or frustrated that one of my most detailed interactions with him was without Hermione being there. Relieved because she had no clue about that bet, but frustrated because she'd have some power to make him keep his mouth shut, at least.

"Malfoy." The twat greeted, somewhat resembling some form of demon I'd seen depicted in old magic textbooks with his animalistic sneer. "Out for a stroll, are we?"

"I don't simply stroll, Nott. Unlike yourself, I actually have purposes in life. I don't have time for a stroll."

"A tragedy." He remarked, though his tone remained as unbothered as it had been before I made my hatred towards him known once again.

"Indeed." I finished, making a move to slide past him when he put a hand on my shoulder to stop me.

"How rude of you. We've only just begun our little chat."

"Hm. Well, consider it ended already, then. Until another time, perhaps."

"How are you doing with our bet?" He asked, instead, acting as though my words hadn't actually been spoken. He had a tendency to do that, frequently. Naturally, I detested it.

"I'm making progress. I'll definitely have kissed her by the time the ball ends, anyway."

"But you only have two weeks!" He responded, earning no response from me other than a barely audible grunt, since it was more of a statement than a question. "Ah, well. If you fail, I'll just... scoop her up for myself. See just how many things Gryffindor's finest is fine at." He winked at me, as though he wasn't a repugnant troll and we were merely two close friends sharing an inside joke. However, this was one joke I didn't particularly enjoy.

"You won't touch her, Nott." I snapped, just a tad too defensively, earning a bemused chuckle grow the brunet facing me.

"Won't I?"

And he was gone.

One of many things about Nott that made my skin crawl was that I couldn't retaliate. He was smart in that sense: he'd drop a rather unpleasant bomb, relish the look on your face as you panicked, and then leave you to your dilemma. The thing that I hated about that was that I couldn't hex the balls off him whenever he pulled a stunt such as this, because there was no time to think and react. Sometimes I found myself wishing that I could bind his wand and his broom together and snap them both in half simultaneously. Maybe it was the Slytherin in me. Maybe that was just how much of a piss-take he was.

Yeah, it was probably both.

The problem was that I'd formed some weird bond with Hermione, and we were actually friends. It was a fact that I never thought I'd even dream of, but a fact nonetheless. In a way, our relationship was everything I never thought I needed. I had Blaise, but he was a guy, and so utterly different. I had Pansy, but I never connected with her quite so well, because she spent most of our childhood being obsessed with me. I'm not even going to explain Crabbe and Goyle.

So, it was this unique friendship with Hermione or my pride and dignity that I had to choose between. Kissing her and revealing that it was all some secret plot would likely destroy her trust in me for all eternity. It'd be my very own life sentence. Screw Azkaban. I'd be condemned to an eternity of misery, sentenced by Gryffindor's blooming princess.

However, losing the bet risked the reputation that I'd spent almost a decade building in Hogwarts. I was lucky that the war hadn't ripped it to shreds. I couldn't let Theodore Nott do that instead.

"Hey, stranger." A gentle voice behind me drawled, and I spun around, meeting the gaze of my raven-haired childhood best friend, Pansy Parkinson. I felt my shoulders relax a little as she grinned at me, incredibly thankful for the fact that she'd toned down her shrill voice and raging passion to eviscerate all muggle-borns. It was months after the battle that she'd broken down and confessed to me that she felt horrible for standing by and watching people die in the war, and perhaps she wasn't as dedicated to the death eaters as she thought. "Mudbloods or not," she'd spat between each shuddering breath, "having their literal blood on my hands isn't a memory I'd like to revisit. Ever. I'd rather drown myself in firewhiskey or shove a blast-ended skrewt down my own throat."

And, though I hadn't believed her at all at the time since she had a tendency to be dramatic, she remained true to her word. She never said nor did anything that even remotely hinted that she disliked anybody of a different blood purity, despite the fact that I was almost 100% sure that the feelings of loathing were still buried somewhere deep within her. Old habits die hard, as the saying goes.

"What was all that about?" She continued, presumably talking about my interaction with Nott. Nevertheless, I shrugged, hoping that she was miraculously referring to something else.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Pans." I responded innocently, and her eyes instantly narrowed.

"Never, in all the years that I've known you, have you spoken to Nott and not ranted about it to me immediately afterwards." She pointed out, and I cursed inwardly. New Pansy was perceptive, to say the least.

Crap.

"I'm a whole new person. I think I can have a conversation with him without having some aching desire to scream at him."

"...really?"

"No, I lied, he's an asshole."

"I knew it!" She squealed in triumph and folded her arms, flashing a smirk that'd make even my father proud. "Spill the details. We've shared everything since we were four, Drake, what's so different about this?"

"There's a girl."

"Psh, if you're fighting for her attention, you're obviously going to destroy him. Anyone would choose you over him, for sure."

"No, it's nothing like that."

"Oh?"

"It's Hermione Granger."

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Are you kidding me?"

"Huh, thought we were past prejudice, Pans."

"We are." She huffed indignantly, rolling her eyes. "I meant, muggle-born or not, you hate her guts - or, at least, you did. If you go after her, it won't end well."

"Who said I was going after her? It's worse." After a slight raise of the eyebrow from her displayed her curiosity, I continued. "I made a bet with Nott, because I got cocky and thought I was all that. Anyway, I have to kiss her by midnight on the day of the Halloween Ball to win the bet. I don't lose anything physical if I fail, but I do risk watching utter satisfaction being plastered all over his face for about a year. Plus, he said he'd go after her, and he has bad intentions."

"Draco, you idiot." She hissed, and, to my instant horror, she dragged me into a classroom and shut the door. I was going to get an earful. "You can't just toy with a girl's emotions like that. Granger or not, imagine how she'll feel when Nott gets all smug and tells her that your friendship is completely fake."

"But that's not true-"

"And how is she supposed to know that?" She snapped back. "Look, I have to ask, and be honest, I don't give a damn about who you choose to befriend... but are you two close?"

"I think so." I shrugged, but was internally pleading that that might be the case.

"Right. Do you think life without her would be less, more or equally pleasant?"

I thought long and hard. Sure, we had our arguments, and now that I didn't have to declare my eternal partiality to Voldemort I was free and happy, but there were some moments I had with Hermione that just couldn't be replicated if something were to happen to our friendship. Our broom ride, and trip to her little garden, for example. The swim in the Black Lake. Planning an entire ball with her, teasing her when her hair became all bushy again from running her hands through it so often due to stress.

Then there were the little things, like me occasionally helping her out with potions when she looked a little puzzled and her instantly retorting that she knew that, goddamnit, but I still saw her smile beneath her curtain of hair as she scribbled down what I'd said, word for word. When we'd pass each other in the hallway and I'd make some flirty remark that, if she was tired, she'd squeak and blush at, or if she was more alert, she'd respond to with more flirty humour. How I'd swap our ties in the mornings when I felt particularly cunning, and she'd only notice half way through lunch and be forced to storm over to me and exchange them again.

No, I wouldn't give that up. Not if I could help it.

"I guess her being there isn't so horrid. For Merlin's sake, she's pretty fun, when she isn't being obnoxiously smart and matter-of-fact."

"So, imagine this, Drake - you've just kissed her, and, you might shudder at the thought, I know, but the pure intimacy of the act makes you decide that maybe you don't want to be friends anyway. Maybe you want to be more. Nott finds out about this, makes a big show of destroying your relationship with Granger, and then anything you say will only make her think you're straying further from the truth."

"Hermione wouldn't mind. She'd understand, wouldn't she? Brightest witch and all that jazz."

"But do you want to risk it? Think about it, Draco." She opened the classroom door again now, and lurked in the doorway as she finished her sentence. "Blaise has been your best friend since the two of you met, but it took three years for you to call him anything other than Zabini. In the year-long period that you haven't actually detested Hermione, and after almost a decade of petty hatred, you're on a first name basis. She has to mean something to you, if only a little."

"It means nothing, I'm trying to change." I stressed, sighing.

"Maybe. But old habits die hard." Pansy stated firmly, before she began to make her way down the corridor. "I'm coming to the Quidditch game later, too! That's what I meant to tell you. Good luck beating Gryffindor." After pausing briefly mid-yell, she added, "If you lose, I'll crush your broom with my bare hands and stick the splinters up your nose." And she was gone.

Honestly, I usually would've forgotten that it was the Quidditch game, but I was prepared that day. I'd been training the evening prior, and had noticed that the rest of the team had been attending regular sessions, too. I practiced on my own later in the evening, because of Head Boy duties and whatnot.

Exiting the classroom and closing the door quietly behind me, I scanned the hallway but found no familiar faces and instead made my way towards the pitch. I had three hours to practice. I might as well make them count.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HERMIONE

I'd always hated Quidditch, I'm not going to lie. Especially since the matches at Hogwarts were always inconveniently set on a day that was absolutely freezing, and meant that I couldn't watch them without having to waddle around in about ten layers of clothing.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration and I just really don't like the sport itself. Maybe.

But it was Gryffindor against Slytherin, and though each team didn't aggressively hate each other anymore, it was always hilarious to watch the competition. And quite intense, actually, but that was mostly because of Harry, whether dementors tried to attack him or professors tried to curse him. It'd be interesting to see how this match went on without him.

I'd half expected Draco to be going on about how Slytherin were going to kick our asses this year, he just knew it. He hadn't, though - for the brief period of time that he'd actually been in the common room, he'd barely uttered a word about quidditch. Whether that was because I'd already whined about his constant babbling about it or not, I was unsure, but I hadn't had to listen to him go on about how he'd aced the Wronski Feint at last.

I was in the Gryffindor stand now, one of many who were watching the Quidditch game, and Luna and I squealed in excitement as we saw that the golden snitch was released and Ginny and Draco instantly shot after it, and the quaffle was thrown back and forth in a dark blur. Back when Ginny was here with me and not out on a broom, she'd be constantly screaming profanities at any players who messed up particularly badly, and whilst the tranquility about Luna and I was relieving, I almost missed the redhead's passionate shrieks.

I spotted a flash of platinum blonde hair about ten minutes after the game began, and I saw that Draco was stationary in the air, searching for the snitch. He gazed a little lower, until his eye caught mine, and he smirked, shooting me a look that clearly said, "I've won this."

I rolled my eyes and couldn't quite suppress a laugh, but it was an expression that was quickly wiped off my face and replaced with one of sheer surprise as he instantly raced off again.

He hadn't been looking for the snitch. He'd been looking for me.

"What's wrong, Hermione? You look like you've just seen a dementor." Luna hummed in concern, patting me on the arm to catch my attention. I turned to her and smiled, reassuring her that nothing was wrong.

It was technically true, but, for some reason, I was shrieking inside, though it didn't seem to be in a negative way.

Why would it be? I was a close enough friend of Draco's for him to actually search for me in a crowd at a Quidditch match. I was grateful.

But that didn't mean I understood the fluttering sensation in my stomach as this realisation dawned on me.

The game continued without anything particularly unusual happening, aside from the new commentator having a hilarious (but quite revolting) coughing fit right into the microphone. Draco and Ginny both came close to catching the snitch on numerous occasions, but were always put off by the other flying dangerously close to them. Even from my distance, I could see Draco gripping his broom in fury so tightly that the skin on his knuckles went even paler than his natural tone. Ginny's cheeks were so flaming that they could've represented the Gryffindor house on their own without her having to wear the Quidditch kit.

After around fifty minutes had passed and half of the students had drifted off out of boredom (including Luna, who said that she'd never been a fan of Quidditch anyway, but she hated it now), I perked up a little as the commentator announced that Ginny had apparently spotted the snitch, and, despite the faltering numbers, the Gryffindor stand still gave a roar that was close to deafening, whilst the Slytherins looked livid. I caught sight of Draco weaving his way through chasers and beaters, and couldn't quite suppress a giggle when he looked positively horrified as a bludger flew straight towards his face.

Unfortunately, he noticed my gleeful expression and this only seemed to encourage him to beat Ginny, and a look of determination etched itself onto his face as he raced ahead of her, arm outstretched in an attempt to catch the snitch. Ginny seemed totally infuriated, and flew forward so that she was on level with him, her hand just inches in front of his as a small golden sphere flitted around in front of them.

I remained silent as everyone else chanted, because, to be honest, I wasn't sure who I'd cheer for.

A gasp escaped my lips - and everybody else's, apparently - as the pair lurched forward and the snitch disappeared from sight, in one of their hands. A murmur of confusion spread throughout the crowd as they both flew down towards the ground and landed, their teams following soon after.

Then, to my mild dismay, Draco took a step forward and shot his hand up - clutching the snitch between his fingers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DRACO

It was practically tradition for the winning house of a Quidditch game to throw a quiet(ish) celebratory party, so, naturally, I was eager to do so. After much contemplation with the other people on the team (and, by that, I mean we discussed it for about thirty seconds because everyone else was growing restless), we decided to throw the gathering in the Head Boy & Girl tower, because it was larger and could accommodate the Gryffindors. We invited them under the pretence that we were encouraging house unity, but we actually wanted to mock them for losing.

After announcing the location, the mob of students instantly hurtled towards the direction of the dormitory - except for the first years who trailed behind in bewilderment, still not certain of the whereabouts of everything.

By the time I'd gotten changed into my regular clothing and reached the common room, it was so full that I felt slightly claustrophobic, and I didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing. I spotted Hermione in a far corner, talking to Weaslette, and my feet seemed to think before my mind because, before I knew it, I was heading in their direction.

"Ahhh, Weasley. Hermione. Glad you could make it."

"This is my common room too, Draco, I didn't have much choice." The brunette pointed out, and I cursed mentally as Weaslette snickered.

"Really? Because I could've sworn that you practically live in the library." I retorted, though not bitterly, and she grinned in response.

"Only to get away from you."

"Don't even pretend that you can resist my charm. Nobody can. Right, Weasley?" I shot a wink towards the ginger - something I wasn't counting on ever doing again - and smirked as she grimaced in disgust.

"Wink at me one more time, and you'll be writing apologies to Harry."

"Why would I do that? What for?"

"For making his girlfriend decide to become a lesbian after putting her off men forever."

I felt my face heat up as Hermione cackled manically in glee at my embarrassment, wiping her eyes full of tears that'd already formed from her outburst of laughter

"As the host of this party, I can kick you out right now."

"And as somebody who also resides in this tower, I can invite her right back in." Hermione bit back with a smirk, and I raised my eyebrows, chuckling.

"Feisty."

"I try."

"Draco!" A voice behind me greeted, and I turned to meet the gaze of Pansy for the second time that day, confused at her warm smile until I remembered how we were both trying to change for the better. "It's glad to know that you finally beat Gryffindor. Looks like I won't be breaking your broom, after all."

"As if I would've let you anywhere near it in the first place, Pans. Your first mistake was warning me that you were going to destroy it, so, naturally, I would've hidden it just in case." But the raven-haired girl payed no attention, because her gaze was fixed on Hermione, who'd been waiting just behind the two of us with Ginny as we spoke.

"Granger, Weasley." She smiled slightly at them, completely disregarding anything I'd just said and focusing entirely on the Gryffindor girls. "I didn't know whether or not you'd be here, but, apparently, Draco found you both before I did. It's good to see that Slytherins are getting along so well with the... losing house after the match."

"A pleasure as always, Parkinson." Hermione replied sarcastically, but her tone was a little lighter than I would've expected. Weaslette seemed less welcoming. "I'm truly surprised that you even noticed your house's victory, as myself and most of the audience noticed you very clearly snogging the life out of Ernie Macmillan for most of the game."

"Well..." she began, and I flinched, expecting the two to begin a full-fledged bitch fight, "...you got me there." And the pair smiled at each other. I glanced at Weaslette, who looked equally as horrified as I did.

"There are probably millions of alternate universes to this one, and in none of them did I ever imagine that the two of you would get along." I pointed out, furrowing my eyebrows at the questionable sight.

"For once, Malfoy's right. What in Merlin's name is this?" the red-head added, to which Hermione smiled and said simply:

"House unity."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HERMIONE

The party died down a little after a couple of hours, but the news of it must've spread fast because tons of Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and more students from Slytherin and Gryffindor seemed to join, and it was soon thriving more than it had been when it first began.

There was a cluster of students sitting together in a ring around the fire now, including myelf, Ginny, Draco, Pansy, Luna and a couple of others who joined in. We were all sat on the floor facing inwards, as a group of Slytherins who'd apparently had too much firewhiskey stated that their Hufflepuff friends needed to sit down a lot more than we did, and they dragged the sofas against the back wall for their own group. Everybody on the floor was enjoying themselves way too much to care, though, as we were all laughing as if we'd been friends for much longer than a few months - and that was just after years of spiteful rivalry, too.

It was funny what a single quidditch celebration party could do to people.

By this time it was around 6pm, and the majority of people had decided to skip dinner and sneak some things from the kitchen later. This had happened so many times after quidditch games that the professors surely would've noticed, but I think now they were just grateful that we didn't really detest one another anymore.

Like any other party full of people who were having too much fun to care about anything in particular, there were countless suggestions to play a little game or two, to the dismay of some Ravenclaws who "didn't want to stay too late, there's studying to do". Our circle on the rug decided that maybe that was a fun idea, though, considering we hadn't done this with several houses at once before, so we could learn a thing or two from each other.

Well, that was my take on it. Everyone else seemed to have another idea of 'games'.

"7 Minutes in Heaven!" Squealed Ginny, earning an approving applause from everyone else.

"Gin, I hate to burst your bubble, but... aren't you dating Harry? This game usually ends in, you know..."

"Snogging the other person senseless or shagging them till they can hardly stand?" Draco offered, and I laughed, nodding.

"Wait, 'Mione, didn't he tell you?"

"Who, Harry?" I asked the redhead, who nodded in confirmation. "Tell me what?"

"We broke up last week. It was a mutual thing, but we just... weren't working out. It wasn't even the distance. We mostly just got together for... comfort as the war lurked just ahead, I guess. We felt pressured by a potentially tiny amount of time left to do something with our tiny attraction to each other."

"That's fair." I mumbled, but inside I was aching. Why hadn't he told me? We'd still been exchanging regular letters with each other, and he hadn't even hinted at it in his most recent one. If anything, in the past, he would've told me about his doubts before he broke up with a girl. 

"Anyway!" Draco broke the silence and grabbed an empty firewhiskey bottle from a table behind him. "We all know how to play, right?"

"Yeah." Everyone chorused in sync, and I raised my eyebrows, noticing that the numbers had grown slightly.

"Fantastic." He smirked, placing the bottle in the centre of the circle. "Now, you can choose the two people who go into that closet," he pointed to a tiny, empty room a few feet away from us, "in two different ways: by picking either their name or something that symbolises them out of a hat, or spinning a bottle. I think it'd be interesting to combine the two. We spin the bottle, and whoever it lands on has to choose an object belonging to the other person out of a hat or something. Those two people will be a pair. Do we understand?"

Everyone nodded - some slightly more nervous than others, myself included - and everyone found some unique thing they possessed, dropping the item into a hat. I searched my pockets and pulled out a quill Harry had specially made for me for my birthday, with a lion's head and 'H.G.' engraved along the side of it. The feather was red, naturally.

"Right." The blonde concluded, observing the circle of about 14 people. "Let's clear up some rules. Firstly, leave now if you don't want to play. Remember, you could be locked in a closet with anybody here. If you back out when your name is called or part way through the game, you're banned from the next three quidditch after-parties. Is that understood?" When nobody moved or said anything, he continued. "Second, yes, two people of the same gender can be picked. You don't have to kiss, but, obviously, you still can. Anybody who disagrees with that can piss right off." I raised my eyebrow at his comment - though not in a negative way. It was interesting to see him defend people so fiercely, despite being a racist, cruel prick in the past. I was glowing with pride, but nobody noticed. "Lastly... nothing leaves this room. Deal?"

Everybody nodded. Draco grinned and cleared his throat, placing his hand on the bottle. "Well, if we're all ready..." He mumbled, before spinning it as everyone watched it go round, almost hypnotised. It slowed after a while (he spun it with a weirdly large amount of force, so we were waiting for quite a long time) until it finally settled on Blaise Zabini.

"Awesome." the Italian stated enthusiastically, a wide smile gracing his lips as he rummaged around inside the hat almost the second that the bottle had pointed towards him. He must've been somebody who was up for the challenge. The Slytherin didn't seem scared at all as he pulled out a Holyhead Harpies pin. "Who the-"

"Oh, God." came a groan from beside me, and I turned to see Ginny roll her eyes but stand up and dust herself down in preparation nonetheless. "Let's get this over with, Zabini."

I watched as the redhead grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him into the closet, summoning a stopwatch and hanging it on a hook outside the door. "Seven minutes, and not a second more. Hermione, I'm counting on you to make sure of that." And, with that, the door slammed shut.

The common room instantly erupted with noise, the students on the carpet indifferent to the fact that their voices were hardly very hushed. I sighed, trying to block out the indecipherable babble that was very nearly deafening me, when a light chuckle sounded loud and clear to my right. I turned my head to see Draco, trying (and failing) to laugh covertly, averting his gaze when he saw me looking on in amusement.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing."

My eyes narrowed. "Then why are you laughing?"

"I'm not, I'm, uh, coughing." He let out a faux cough into the hand that he was still using to try and cover his grin, and stated, "See."

"Draco." I warned, glaring at him until he sighed and let his hand fall to his side.

"Blaise has been crushing on your friend for months on end. He called her hot on the train ride in September, at the beginning of our sixth year, and I thought that was all it was." The blonde shook his head, chuckling helplessly once again. "Turns out I was wrong."

"Wow... wait, but, why is that funny?"

"I recall Weaslette saying that she wanted to 'move on' from Potty, don't you?" I nodded in agreement, slowly piecing together his words. It took a good thirty seconds, but I felt my face light up in realisation, my eyes widening.

"Oh, Merlin-"

"Exactly. Either the She-Weasel will be so repulsed by Blaise that they won't even look at each other and he'll think it's sexual tension, only encouraging him to make a move on her in the future, or-" he was cut off by an audible thud against the closet door, and a smirk slowly spread over his face, "or, they're having a weirdly aggressive makeout session as we speak."

"Oh, you're vile." I remarked, my face contorting in disgust, but the bang on the door only proved him right. If it was the first option, they'd be stood as still as possible, far away from each other. Even if they knocked something over, the clatter wouldn't have been that loud. Which meant... "Draco, I'm never gonna forgive you for putting that image in my head."

"'Course you you will." He scoffed, a hint of mischief in his eye as he watched me shudder, clapping my hands over my ears just in case any more noise came from the direction of the closet.

For the remaining five minutes, we spoke with Pansy and Luna about something completely off-topic: mostly because I think Draco was just trying to be decent and take my mind off the pair snogging a few feet away from us. When they finally emerged from the closet, they were both breathless, a grin glued onto Blaise's face and a fake scowl on Ginny's.

"Malfoy, I swear," Ginny began, but he cut her off, raising a hand to stop her.

"Nothing leaves this room, Weaslette." Draco insisted, and she blinked in confusion, clearly having expected him to go back on his word for the sake of annoying her. "Anyway, you've had your time to shine, now I think it's best to give somebody else a chance."

The bottle was spun two more times, one couple being two Ravenclaw girls I'd never actually interacted with and the other being Luna and Neville - who were already dating, so that was fortunate - and Draco was growing restless. Probably because there hadn't been another entertaining couple since Ginny and Zabini, no doubt.

"Third time's a charm." He whispered, and I smiled to myself satisfied that I was clearly right. The grin of mine quickly disappeared, though, and I cursed mentally for getting too ahead of myself, as the end of the bottle landed on me. "Bingo." The boy beside me breathed, and I scowled, hitting him on the arm. "What?" He whined, holding up his hands defensively. "I just wanna see if Gryffindor's princess will get up to no good with some dashing stranger. Plus, it's the perfect thing to taunt you with."

"Uhm, hey, you said that nothing leaves this room!" I protested, cringing at my voice's similarity to that of a five year old.

"You're forgetting, 'Mione, this is our dormitory."

I practically felt my face drain of colour, and I almost groaned aloud, but I didn't want to seem like a wuss after being chosen, so I fished around in the hat. It was rather easy to pick someone new, really - I knew which objects belonged to Ginny, Neville and the Ravenclaw girl, so I was able to search for something different. My fingers brushed against cold metal at the bottom of the hat, and, curious, I decided to pull that out. I grinned as I saw what it was, knowing who the owner was instantly. In any other circumstance, I would've been furious, but this was the perfect solution to the ridiculing issue that'd come up no more than five seconds ago.

"Can't tease me now, Draco. We're in the same boat." I mocked, holding up a small silver ring with a snake engraved in it and watching gleefully as his own cheerful expression was washed away. "Or, should I say, 'some dashing stranger'."


	10. Revelations

HERMIONE

"What's wrong, Malfoy? You look like you've just seen a ghost." I remarked with a satisfactory grin, as he blinked rapidly, his body almost refusing to process the fact that he'd just lost the ability to taunt me mercilessly for hours on end.

\-----------------------------------------

The grin of mine quickly disappeared, though, and I cursed mentally for getting too ahead of myself, as the end of the bottle landed on me. "Bingo." The boy beside me breathed, and I scowled, hitting him on the arm. "What?" He whined, holding up his hands defensively. "I just wanna see if Gryffindor's princess will get up to no good with some dashing stranger. Plus, it's the perfect thing to taunt you with."

"Uhm, hey, you said that nothing leaves this room!" I protested, cringing at my voice's similarity to that of a five year old.

"You're forgetting, 'Mione, this is our dormitory."

I practically felt my face drain of colour, and I almost groaned aloud, but I didn't want to seem like a wuss after being chosen, so I fished around in the hat. It was rather easy to pick someone new, really - I knew which objects belonged to Ginny, Neville and the Ravenclaw girl, so I was able to search for something different. My fingers brushed against cold metal at the bottom of the hat, and, curious, I decided to pull that out. I grinned as I saw what it was, knowing who the owner was instantly. In any other circumstance, I would've been furious, but this was the perfect solution to the ridiculing issue that'd come up no more than five seconds ago.

"Can't tease me now, Draco. We're in the same boat." I mocked, holding up a small silver ring with a snake engraved in it and watching gleefully as his own cheerful expression was washed away. "Or, should I say, 'some dashing stranger'."

\-------------------------------------------

"Oh, do shut up, Granger. Now do you see why I'm dreading being locked in a cupboard with you for four hundred and twenty seconds?"

"That was weirdly quick maths, Malfoy-" I retorted, using his surname teasingly just as he had with me, but he cut me off before I had the chance to elaborate.

"Come on," he huffed impatiently, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me over to the closet as Blaise cheered him on jokingly. Whether he'd meant to aim for my hand or my arm in general, I wasn't sure, but for some reason our intertwined fingers sent literal chills running down my body.

Or maybe it was just the fear of what might happen in this closet.

"Just so you know," my tone was light and breezy, as I tried to make the best of the situation whilst Draco closed the door, "I have slight claustrophobia, so if I start breathing slightly heavily at some point-"

"It's because you're getting all hot and bothered from standing so close to my sexy-ass body, and the claustrophobia is just a cover so I really don't make fun of you. There's nothing to be ashamed of, though." I could just see him wink in the dark, and I scowled.

"You really need to stop cutting me off," I grumbled, squinting to see him in the dark for a painfully long amount of time before I finally remembered that I was a witch, goddamnit. Pulling my wand out of my pocket as quickly as I possibly could without accidentally making contact with Draco, I raised it, whispering 'umos' but almost shrieking instantly as, not only was the light blinding, but it turned out that Draco was much closer to my than I thought.

"Nox." I hissed hurriedly before the blonde had the opportunity to start spluttering a string of insults at me, and we were in darkness again. "Well, that went well."

"Totally. That's one way of putting it." It was the first time that he'd spoken in the closer whilst actually facing me, and his breath tickled my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. 

"How do you expect that we should pass the time?"

"We could use Ginny and Blaise's tactic and shag."

"Urgh, that's - wait, do you actually think they..."

"They tried to walk out looking all casual, I know. Their clothes weren't even all ruffled. But I'm assuming that the forgotten underwear he stuffed into his pocket wasn't just a random garment he picked up in the closet."

"Oh, dear Merlin." A loud groan escaped my lips, Draco's emitting a deep chuckle, and glanced around for a wall that I could head-butt the image out on, but, finding none that would mean we would be in a particularly dignified position, I settled for resting my forehead on his chest, instead, cursing my short height under my breath.

He had a weirdly nice chest, though.

"Comfortable, there, Granger?" He asked with a hint of jealousy, and I grinned, though he couldn't see as my head was pressed against him.

"Incredibly. You're like my own personal pillow."

"Glad you're having fun. I'm too tall for this ruddy cupboard." Upon hearing the bemused giggle I let out, he frowned. "Rude. I'm really uncomfortable, here."

"Hm... can we not just make this way less awkward, and..." my heart was racing, but nevertheless I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him properly, rather than just being pressed weirdly against him like he was a plank of wood. He stiffened at first, and I panicked, scared that he thought I was trying to cross the boundary into something more than just a friend, but he relaxed into my arms, snaking his own around my neck and resting his chin on my hair.

"You're oddly comfortable."

"It's my hair. It's frustratingly thick." I pointed out, as if it wasn't totally easy to tell.

"Yeah, and it also smells of green apples. I knew you'd been using all of my shampoo." He hissed in annoyance, and I gulped. Crap.

"I don't pay attention to these things when I shower! I don't usually share a bathroom, so I just grabbed the first bottle I saw!"

"Didn't you share a dormitory with about five other girls when you were in the Gryffindor tower for six years?"

Oh dear.

"Okay, fine. It just smells so damn good. I noticed it on that night that we, uh..."

"The night that you feared you'd have nightmares again so you slept in my bed and we spooned and you fell head over heels for me?"

I scoffed. "That last part isn't true."

"You mean you were already in love with me then?"

"This is a weird conversation to be having when we're hugging, Draco."

"Touché."

I giggled, suddenly surprised that I could do so without sounding utterly ridiculous - I hoped. 

"What was up with you before, anyway, hm?" He continued, and I frowned, raising my head to meet his gaze and almost wishing that I hadn't, because we were now dangerously close.1

"What do you mean? When?"

"When the She-Weasel told you that she'd broken up with Pothead. Did you... want to have a shot with him yourself?"

"What? With Harry?" I almost roared with laughter - a lot less preferable to the giggle - and shook my head. "No, that'd be like dating a brother."

"Incest: a game the whole family can play."

"Ew, gross. But, no, seriously, it's not that." I could've sworn that his face lit up a little at my  words, but it was probably just the poor, unreliable lighting in the cupboard. 

"What was, uhm, wrong then?"

I smiled, finding it strangely pleasant that Draco was so concerned about my happiness. Or, no, maybe it was mere curiosity. He had always had a tendency to stick his nose where it didn't belong, after all. "He hadn't mentioned anything to me about it, and I thought that, since it had happened long enough ago that it would've  been bound to come up..."

"He was trying to hide it from you." The blonde finished, and I nodded, covertly surprised at his intelligence. Despite having been my sworn enemy for years, he truly did understand me well. 

"I guess I'm just... I'm terrified that our physical distance means we're also emotionally drifting apart. Things are tense enough with Ron, at the moment, though that's my fault for being so damn gullible." I exhaled deeply, awkwardly meeting Draco's gaze to find that his eyes were filled with confusion and some concern. "Sorry, we aren't playing this game just so I can rant."

"No, I asked, and this is clearly bugging you. Who else are you going to talk to? Weaslette? No, she'll obviously back Ron up, he's her brother. I have a nice unbiased opinion to help you out with."

"Draco, you hate them both."

"Yes, but I hate them both equally." I giggled at that, feeling his chest shake with laughter too. "What happened with Weasley, if you don't mind me asking?"

"We kissed during the battle, down in the chamber of secrets. I know, not the most romantic of places, but, anyway, I guess it meant a lot to me - the kiss literally lingered on my mouth, that's how I knew it was something special - and not to him. He told me that incredibly bluntly, whilst knowing how I felt about him and that it'd hurt, but I suppose he just... didn't care."

"Nonsense. Anyone would be stupid to want to purposely hurt you, honestly. Weaselbee's thick, he probably just assumed that you were fine with it unless you explicitly told him otherwise."

I fell silent. "Thank you. It's also my fault for falling for people way too easily, I suppose." 

He hummed in acknowledgement and my heart stopped as I felt him freeze, angling his head to look at me as best as possible in the dark. "Did you just say 'people'? Ooh, Hermione Jean Granger, you vixen. Who's the lucky fella?"

"How about we talk about your past girlfriends for a change, hm, Draco? Pansy's changed for the better, any feelings for her resurfacing?" I couldn't hide the bitter tone that came with that question, for some unknown reason, and it felt weird to ask whilst we were still practically spooning.

"God, no. We just had a quick snog every now and then. I never even shagged her. Scratch that, there's never been anyone." He responded calmly, clearly more at ease with talking about his past love life than I am. I raised an eyebrow at his last statement, but didn't comment. "Right, okay, moving on. I don't know what would be more awkward, talking about who we've snogged in the past or actually snogging each other for the entire time. We only have two minutes left."

I saw and seized the opportunity to teasingly flirt with him myself, as a change to it being vice versa. "Well, we could test out the latter option, if you so wish?"

Despite us still being stood still in a weirdly comfortable embraced, Draco stumbled in surprise and tripped once he'd processed what I was implying, accidentally throwing me into the door and pinning himself against me. None of us moved - partly out of shock, and partly because it wasn't really a different situation to how we were positioned before. We were merely an inch closer, and didn't even notice, at first.

"Dear Merlin, Draco, we just did the same thing Blaise and Ginny did! They would've heard us. Everyone'll thing we're kissing each other senseless, now.

"That's what this game's about." He taunted with a chuckle. "Plus, why not let them think that we are? It'd be pretty hilarious. Plus, nobody's going to enter this common room again any time soon, so they can't question us about it."

"Now I know for sure why you're a Slytherin, you conniving little... ferret." I finished, unable to think of a more elaborate insult.

"Real mature, Granger."

"I know, it's a gift."

"No, honestly. It was one time, and you're never going to let me live it down?"

"Nope. You make a better ferret than you do a human."

"That's bloody charming." He muttered, and I grinned.

"I'm kidding."

"Forty-five seconds left, Granger. You're probably never gonna be this close to me again, so make it count."

"Only probably?" I teased, watching as he blushed ever so slightly.

"Well, of course. What's stopping me from proposing that we play this game again?"

"Hm, true. So, you're definitely making everyone think we made out, then?"

"One hundred percent."

"And there's nothing I can do to stop you?"

"Nope."

"Might as well go along with it, then."

Pause.

"Dammit, Granger, I can't believe I wasted my turn on you. I wanted action." He stated jokingly (I hoped), and I gasped, feigning offence.

"I can't believe you'd pass up the chance to spoon me again in a dark cupboard, to make out with some girl. Tut, I thought you were better than that." I laughed, hearing Ginny shriek "fifteen seconds, lovebirds!" and an idea popped into my mind.

No, I shouldn't.

Should I?

"I hate to disappoint, though, so, since you wanted action..." I breathed shakily, smiling as I unwrapped my arms from his waist and stood on my tiptoes, angling my head and pressing my lips to his cheek.

It was a simple, friendly kiss. I'd kissed Harry on the cheek loads of times - not Ron, I didn't think he was that sort of person, so I never bothered.

But, if that was the case, then why did it feel so bloody different?

We were both silent, then, Draco apparently being too shocked to speak and I not wanting to say anything at first in case I made a further fool of myself. Ginny was counting down from five, though, and I panicked, not quite fancying the idea of leaving on a tense note. So, despite the evident lie in it, I muttered the first joke that popped into mind.

"Is that a wand in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" I asked with an awkward grin, before slipping out from beneath his grasp and becoming unpinned from the door, opening it and slipping back into the common room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DRACO

All I wanted to do was stay hidden away in the cupboard and be left to my own thoughts, but that'd look suspicious, and we had to carry on with the game. There was no other cupboard to use, so, after a five second delay, I followed Hermione out and took my seat in the circle.

"Ooh, Drake, did you and Granger-" began Pansy, but, as we'd planned, I ignored her and cut her off. 

"Time to re-spin!"

The game continued for half an hour or so, but it still didn't feel like long enough. My thoughts were wrapped around the brunette sitting right beside me, as I physically was not so long ago. My heart had still yet to slow down and I could feel the heat that remained in my cheeks, but, above all, I was so confused.

I knew that her actions were purely because of our friendship and nothing more, and her words were obviously jokes, but no matter how often I repeated that fact in my head, something still didn't feel quite right. My stomach felt weird, like it did when I was nervous or totally flattered by something or someone, and even the slight brush of our legs as we sat side by side made me feel all... tingly.

It was terrifying. I never intended on liking her as more than a friend, and I definitely didn't plan on thinking of her as more than a mere acquaintance this early into us being civil to each other. Perhaps I just got along with her incredibly well and we could potentially form a best-friendship. That made sense, right?

No, it didn't, and I hated it more than I'd ever hated any stinking Gryffindor all put together in my entire life. When I initially befriended Pansy and Blaise, I instantly knew that we'd inseparable, but I didn't feel all fluttery. It was a simple, brief acknowledgement. 

So why couldn't I get Hermione off my mind?

I'd already come to the conclusion that my cheek was still burning because even the mere feeling of Hermione's lips still remained there, as vividly as it would if they were still pressed against my face.

And that's when I froze, and I was sure that my heart had stopped. It was about thirty minutes ago, now, but there was something about what she'd said in that closet that linked perfectly with what I'd just thought about her, but if that was so, then I was in deep trouble. I could almost recite exactly what she'd said word for word.

'The kiss literally lingered on my mouth, that's how I knew it was something special.'

Pansy's prediction had been right. 

It wasn't even a kiss on the lips, and it was already making me feel like I wanted Hermione and I to be something more.

                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HERMIONE

I'd messed up.

I'd destroyed any chance that I had at a friendship with Draco Malfoy, and I should've known better than to make such a risky move. It was flirty banter, for Merlin's sake, what if he thought I'd taken everything literally and decided to keep his distance for a while to avoid sending me the wrong message?

Or, even worse, why was I fretting so much over the fact that he might keep his distance?

Even when Harry had began to drift away from me, I didn't panic so much. And, as much as I tried telling myself that it was because I knew deep down that we'd grow closer again, I highly doubted that. It hadn't exactly happened with Ron, so what reason did I have to believe that that was the case with my other best friend?

It wasn't even set in stone that my stupid decision would have a detrimental effect on the both of us, so why I was being even more paranoid than I had been with my best friends since the first year, I wasn't sure.

Until it all came flooding back to me: how easily he could make me blush when he made a flirtatious joke or winked at me, how simply sleeping beside him could ward off nightmares just as effectively as sleeping in my parents' bedroom or a whole potion had, how, in spite of my former dedication to organising the ball, all I could think about now was how I'd be attending it with him. How, although I was still petrified of flying on a broom, I'd be more than eager to do it again if it was with him.

Holy crap. I think I maybe had a slight crush on Draco Malfoy.

Looks like I really did fall for people much more easily than I'd like to admit.

          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DRACO

The game finished soon after, and it amused me to see how a certain selection of unlikely pairs now struggled to function properly with their other half in close proximity to them. Bloody hell. A lot must've happened in that cupboard.

I disappeared to my room as people started slowly leaving, despising the idea of having to say goodbye to every single person who attended, as I was the host. By the time I'd re-emerged twenty minutes later, everybody had finally cleared out, and I spotted Hermione trying her best to drag what appeared to be some pretty heavy furniture back over to their original positions. I chuckled as she groaned, blowing a strand of hair out of her face, and alerted her of my presence, because she glanced over at me and stood up straight.

"You're a witch, aren't you?" I mocked with a smirk, and she rolled her eyes, pulling her wand out of her pocket and muttering a few spells to fly the sofas and armchairs over, completing the task in a mere few seconds. "Honestly, and you're supposed to be bright."

"What time is it?" she asked, and I frowned, after expecting some form of witty retort. She was always quick to answer back to the accusation that she was less than ingenious, but, apparently, not this time.

"It's half past eight, why?"

"I'd better get some rest, then, we have classes tomorrow and our potions professor said we're going over a pretty powerful potion that we'd already done before. Plus, the ball's two weeks away, and we've already announced it so we should probably finalise some things and set a date for the trip to Hogsmeade." she blurted hurriedly, before turning on her heel and heading towards her room.

"Hermione, wait."

Naturally, she stopped, turning around and half-smiling. "What's wrong?"

"I think I should be the one asking that question. Are you trying to avoid me? You never go to bed this early, not even on nights before we have divination first thing in the morning, as much as you stress about it."

"I'm not avoiding you." She scoffed, shaking her head, until she met my sceptical gaze and her face dropped. "Oh my gosh, I am." she stated, more to herself than to me, as if she hadn't intended to do it at all. That lifted a heavy weight from my shoulders, and I sighed in relief.

"Why? Did I do something wrong, or-"

"No, it's my fault." She mumbled, flopping down into an armchair and hiding her face in her hands. As I waited for her to elaborate, I inched over to the circle of furniture and took a seat on the sofa facing her, frowning. "I thought that, when I kissed you on the cheek, I gave you the wrong impression. To clarify, it was nothing more than a friendly one, I promise."

"What gave you the idea that I took it the wrong way?"

"You didn't say a word in response. I thought you'd make some joke and ease the tension, but... you were silent. Plus, when we sat back down and our legs brushed even slightly, you jerked away as if you'd just been scalded. I guess I just... got scared that we were gonna go back to being enemies, and I don't want that. These past couple of months have been oddly pleasant, which is the least I expected when you first entered the Hogwarts carriage back in September, honestly."

"I'm not mad at you for the cheek kiss. I honestly found it amusing, almost..." I was about to say 'nice', but stopped myself. Now that I knew she firmly wanted to be friends, I didn't want to give her the wrong impression. "I can't say for certain why I couldn't manage to say anything, but what I can say now is... thank you for treating me as any of your other close friends. I sure as hell don't deserve it, given our rocky past."

The brunette smiled and nodded, her curls bouncing on her shoulders, and I had a brief flashback to how soft they'd felt against my chin.

Screw what I'd said in the closet. Even simply awkwardly hugging Hermione was far better than having a quick snog with some random girl. And, for some reason, I was already beginning to miss the feeling of her arms wrapped around me.

"It's fine. That's all forgotten." Her words told me one thing, but her hand instinctively flying to where the scar on her arm was under her sleeve said another. After she noticed me staring, she bit her lip and looked slightly guilty for a second. "I don't blame you." She whispered, apparently reading my mind.

"You should. I'd turn back time and help, if I could."

"But you can't, and even if you did, you would've gotten yourself killed. It's a little scar, Draco-"

"No, don't try to sugarcoat it, because it won't work." I snapped, quickly regretting my outburst when sadness flashed across her eyes. "I'm sorry, I just- the image of it is still fresh in my mind. As fresh as it could be if you'd shown it to me just three seconds ago. I'd seen him torture people before, but never- never a classmate."

"Draco," she began softly, standing up and making her way over to sit beside me on the sofa. "I understand. But, I'm fine. And Voldemort's dead, so you don't need to worry about anybody's safety, including your own."

"Yeah, easy for you to say. You didn't have the Grim in your cup in divination."

In spite of the gloomy nature of my statement, Hermione's face lit up instantly and the corners of her mouth curled up to form a shy grin. "Yeah, about that... don't get mad, I have warned you that I'm even worse at divination than I am at flying-"

"Granger, what did you do." 

"Well... the Grim is a really serious prediction, it explicitly threatens the safety of a student. I remember when Harry had the Grim in his teacup, there was a huge investigation into anything that might bring him harm. As it turned out, when all of the professors were reviewing it, Professor Malvolio checked over the tea leaves and saw that it really looked nothing like the Grim. I read them wrong."

"So... I fainted randomly in the middle of class for no reason? Bloody hell, Rita Skeeter's gonna have a whole bunch of fun with this one." I sighed at the mention of the woman and rolled my eyes, earning a nervous chuckle from Hermione.

"Wait... aren't you furious?"

"Obviously not. This is the perfect thing to use against you when you try acting all high and mighty." I cleared my throat and, in a high pitched voice, I imitated her: "Malfoy, you're absolutely despicable! Even a goblin could get this charm right, you're doing it all wrong!" Then, switching back to my regular tone, I replied to myself, "Shut up, Granger, says the one who can't even get the class equivalent to a scam right. What are you going to predict next, that my children are all going to have seventeen eyes and horns growing out of their nostrils?"

"No, I'm almost certain that there aren't any symbols in tasseomancy to predict anything of the sort." She snapped defensively, and I simply couldn't suppress a smirk.

"Only almost certain? Oh dear. You really are slacking, Granger. At this rate, you're going to be pronouncing 'wingardium leviosa' wrong next week. Then Weasel can laugh in your face."

"You heard that? Heck, no, you remember that? Draco, that was first year." I grinned, the sense of accomplishment settling in my mind as she looked absolutely mortified.

"It's unforgettable." After she raised an eyebrow at me that seemed to say in itself 'are you kidding me?' I sighed and continued, "Well, no, Pansy and I used it to make fun of Weasley for weeks on end. That was the beginning of so much poking fun at him." I completely ignored the fact that I was saying all of this in front of one of his best friends, but she didn't seem to mind, anyway.

"Oh, god, I hated the teasing."

"Yeah, I think that's why I did it, really." When she frowned in confusion at my words, I decided to add a little more, "I think- no, I know that, at the time, I was just envious of the friendship you all had. Potter had rejected my hand the second we met, and that damaged my ego ever so slightly. Plus, you all had so much fun-"

"I don't think I'd call fighting a troll and almost being killed by a giant chess game and a plant is considered fun."

"Are you kidding? That would've been awesome. I would've been scared out of my skin, because did you remember how I screamed in detention in the woods that one time? But it would've been something I'd looked back on and thought to be amazing. Plus, it probably might've impressed my father. He was always pressuring me to try harder to surpass you in classes, since apparently a muggle-born can't be better than a pureblood, to him. Anyway, I just... you were always glowing with some sort of happiness that I knew I couldn't really feel with Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy. A sense of authority, yeah, because the two boys were too stupid to know how to fend for themselves and Pansy was simply obsessed with me, but... never genuine joy. At least, not until I met Blaise and Pansy began to tone it down a little, but even then other... things got in the way."

Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully, as if she hadn't ever seen the situation in that light before. "I wouldn't have cared." I raised an eyebrow, and that was enough to make her continue, "even though we got off on a very wrong foot, I would've forgiven you. I forgave Ron and Harry, when they mocked me for being a know-it-all when we first met. It was when you began calling me a mudblood that I refused to think of you as anything other than... callous, and cruel."

"I think if I'd have pushed my pride aside and broken out of my racist mindset ever so briefly in our first year, and asked to shake your hand instead of Potter's, things would be a lot different now."

She frowned. "Why do you think that?"

"Because you probably would've said yes. And, that's not an ego-boosting statement - although, who would've passed up an opportunity to be with this," I paused to gesture to myself, and the Gryffindor rolled her eyes. "But you were new to that world. You were eager to do anything, befriend anyone. You could've helped me make better decisions, in the long run. Maybe I could've escaped being branded with this bloody thing," I pointed to my forearm, and, though it was concealed with my sleeve, she winced visibly, indicating that she knew exactly what I meant. 

"Can I see it?" She asked in a whisper, adding hastily, "I know it's a sensitive topic and It's totally fine if you prefer not to show me, but... I want to know whether it's as ghastly as I've always imagined, or I over-exaggerate a lot."

"It's nice to know that you imagine what my body looks like, Granger." I shot her a playful wink, but, with a shuddering breath, I rolled up my sleeve to reveal the dark mass of ink beneath it. The rumours in the prophet were false - to my dismay, the mark hadn't begun fading at all. Voldemort had purposely designed them to last permanently - to ensure your loyalty, I suppose - but the ministry had promised that they were trying to figure out a counter-spell. For once, I believed them, since they wanted to wipe away any trace of Voldemort's existence apart from what was to be written in the history books and to be spoken of by the heroes. 

I couldn't blame them, though.

Hermione's eyes were wide in... I couldn't tell whether or not it was horror. She winced again, though I gathered that it was more because of how painful it looked rather than the fear it inflicted. Ordinary tattoos could be black, yes, but after the first few months the intensity of the shade faded. I wished it was the case with the mark. Although, I suspected that it was intended to be that way. 

I had still been in agony even days after being branded with it, after all.

A sad look flickered in the brunette's eyes, and, slowly, she rolled up her own sleeves to reveal her own scar. They were both physically ugly in their own ways - hers was not only a racist slur, but it was carved carefully and largely into her forearm. It wasn't as pink as I'd remembered, though.

"There." She smiled sadly, as if trying to make the best of a situation that couldn't quite get better. "We match."

And I'd become so used to hugging her after those seven minutes locked in the closet together that it was my first instinct to pull her close, and sit with her in total silence, arms unconcealed for the first time in what felt like forever.


	11. Guilty Pleasure

HERMIONE

After a rather large delay concerning which day would be best for the students to go shopping for their Halloween Ball costumes, we finally settled on the Saturday before the party was set, exactly seven days prior. It seemed a long time, really, but I was already beginning to panic about the most minor of details for it. As Head Girl, it was my shared duty to ensure that there were no dilemmas during the Ball, and I absolutely had to make sure I wouldn't let everybody down, especially since it was introduced purely to cheer everybody up.

I'd arranged to go to Hogsmeade with Ginny and Luna, and we'd all help each other with our costumes. I already knew that I was probably going to dress as an angel, because it's generic but simple (I was going to dress up as what I feared the most - myself as a failed student - but Ginny declared that, war heroine or not, I'd be bullied endlessly) and it was the fancy dress option for a character in a movie I'd recently watched. Luna was going as a pixie, as she said they're small but lively and beautiful, and Ginny was going as a zombified Quidditch player ever since Arthur had told her that muggles could dress up as anything for Halloween, as long as it was 'dead'.

We'd already been to Madame Malkin's and Quality Quidditch Supplies for Luna and Ginny's costume, but I was still struggling to find my angel costume. After a good five minutes of peering in the windows of the most popular stores and coming to the conclusion that they were all too casual to have Halloween costumes, I dragged the other two over to a shadowed corner with a contrastingly dazzling store. Despite the stunning condition of the store, there were only a few students inside, but they seemed more than satisfied with what they were finding, so we all wordlessly decided to check it out.

My jaw dropped, and a grin instantly plastered itself on my face as my gaze fell on the magical equivalent to a muggle costume shop. "Dear Merlin," I breathed, "this is no ordinary store."

"You didn't know this was here?" Ginny asked in disbelief, as I shook my head, totally in awe.

"Do you really think I would've wasted time in every other store if I did?"

"Good point. It's just a shop, though, 'Mione. You're only going to come here once a year, at best."

"We'll see about that," I challenged, and darted inside without checking over my shoulder to see whether the other two were following. I felt like a child, which was oddly more relieving than I ever thought it would be - I didn't have the most ordinary childhood ever, and despite being grateful for the happy memories and honoured that I could fight through the bad ones, it was slightly comforting to know that I could still relive the normal moments.

Since the costume shop was so cliché and therefore contained all of the most typical fancy dress costumes, it didn't take me much time at all to locate an angel costume in perfect condition at what I assumed to be the perfect size.

"You should try it on. I bet it'd look beautiful." Luna commented, and I sighed in contemplation.

"I don't know. Isn't the dress a little too short?"

"It's a party. Merlin's beard, you don't have to dress like Jesus. What next, brown leather sandals?" Scoffed the redhead, before gasping as she read the tag on the wings. "Oh my god, you can charm these so they actually move! You have to get this."

"Well... it does look really pretty." I acknowledged, running my fingers down the soft fabric. "Fine. I'll buy it. But mostly because I'm starving, and I'd quite like to pay George a visit before we have to leave, so I don't really have time to keep looking."

"Oh, just go try it on. And hurry, because I am pretty hungry too." Luna nodded eagerly in agreement with Ginny, and I shot them a small smile before I scurried off to the dressing rooms in the far corner to change.

It didn't take long for me to shrug off my clothes and tug on the dress, due to my inner excitement at the mere thought of the costume being unleashed. I gently ruffled the feathers of the wings and smiled as they tickled against my palm, soft to touch.

"Ginny? Luna?" I called, placing the embellishment gently on the bench along the back wall as I caught sight of my reflection in the back mirror. I didn't look bad, actually, but something was off. "Hey, Gin?" No answer, but I could hear a muffled conversation on the other side of the door that sounded a lot like her.

"Are you deaf? Ginny, I need-" I flung the door open to talk directly to my friend, but squealed in surprise as I met an icy blue gaze instead of that of the girl I was looking for.

"Hermione! Look who I ran into." The Weasley girl said half-heartedly, and Draco held up his hand in greeting, raising an eyebrow at my attire.

"What're you doing here?" I asked, perhaps a little too quickly, because he looked briefly offended. "Sorry, that came out wrong."

"No kidding. And I'm shopping for a costume. Isn't that the purpose of this entire trip?"

"I suppose you're right. What are you planning to dress up as?"

"No idea. I suppose I'll have to find out later and come back. I don't have time to make my mind up now. Do you think Potter will give an old friend a hand and lend me his invisibility cloak?"

"No chance."

"Worth a shot." He retorted with a shrug, smoothing down his robes.

"What did you need, 'Mione?" Ginny interrupted before he had the chance to make some snide comment towards Harry.

"Oh, nothing. I want to see how well it fits but I can't reach behind and zip it up."

"Want me to help?" Draco interjected, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as I scoffed at his remark.

"No, thanks."

Yes, please.

"Suit yourself, but my offer still stands, Gryffindork."

"Shame I don't intend on ever taking you up on it." My voice oozed faux disappointment, but I shot him a light grin anyway - one that wasn't missed by Ginny, as I'd later figure out.

"If that's the case, I'll be on my way." He said, spinning around and making a move to leave the store, though not before pausing abruptly to nod at Ginny. I watched him leave, dress still hanging off on my back, my eyes following his platinum hair as his head bobbed along outside the shop window.

"No. Way." The redhead beside me erupted. "That was flanter at it's finest. When did this happen?"

"Flanter?" I repeated, "And what is 'this'?"

"Flirty banter, of course. It's a muggle word Dad picked up when researching somewhere. And, Hermione, 'this' is the two of you. I know you said you're both a little closer now, but bloody hell, you'll both be sharing a bed before I know it."

I felt my face heat up instantly at the hidden truth behind her words, and this didn't go unnoticed by her. Luck wasn't on my side, today, apparently. "Merlin, Hermione, don't tell me you have! You're blushing like a damned strawberry!"

"What? That's insane. You're insane. I'm merely embarrassed by your preposterous accusations, is all. Never in a million years would I even consider flirting with Draco Malfoy. Pigs would fly."

"Pigs have flew before, 'Mione. We're witches." Luna cut in dreamily, and I couldn't help but wonder whether there'd ever been an article she'd written about that in the Quibbler. It was a very Luna thing to talk about, after all.

"Exactly! Pigs can fly, like you can flirt with Malfoy. They're two ridiculous but apparently possible things."

"I don't have time for flirting, Gin. I have my N.E.W.Ts to study for - I'll fail miserably if I get sidetracked for even a moment."

"Gee, thanks. We're taking the same classes, we'll be taking the same tests, and I still have time for boys."

"You mean Blaise?"

"Precisely."

I chuckled at her unexpected liking for the Slytherin boy she'd hardly even acknowledged until two years ago. They'd make a good couple, but I still hadn't wrapped my head around the fact that she wasn't with Harry anymore.

I'd been meaning to bring up their breakup in our last letter or two, but as he still hadn't, I thought it'd be best to see how long it took for him to say something at long last. Just out of curiosity. But the longer he left it, the stranger it was starting to become. He'd failed to mention neither Ginny nor Ron, no matter how often I tried to bring up the latter. If asked what the redhead had been up to, Harry replied with some brief excuse like 'training' or 'playing wizards' chess'.

Numerous times, I'd contemplated the idea that perhaps Ron was just a little hurt that I was in touch regularly with one best friend and not the other. He'd been easily jealous before, it could happen again. Maybe he'd just pleaded that Harry didn't mention anything much about him in our letters, either to push me to contact him myself or because he was frustrated with me. The raven-haired boy had never been one to stand in the way of Ron and I, though, if this was the case, surely he would've told me discreetly so I wouldn't be confused?

On the other hand, he hadn't even hinted at him and Ginny. Who knew what he was hiding,

"Anyway, uh, zip me up already? I want to buy this and get the hell out of here, but not if it doesn't fit."

"Fine, fine." Ginny said, and did so, spinning me around to face the full-length mirror in the corner. It was a beautiful satin fabric, with some lace but not an excessive amount. It was beautiful, I'll admit, and it looked totally out of place on me. Even when wearing dresses, I went for darker tones. This was a whole other level of purity.

"Hot damn, Hermione Granger." Ginny stated, laughing. "If you didn't knock everyone dead in the Yule Ball, you'll kill them twice over in this."

"It's beautiful." Luna hummed in agreement, a gentle smile on her face as she picked up the wings and clipped them onto the back of it. "Be careful, people might start to think this isn't a costume."

"Thank you, I think- this is the costume. I know Halloween should be scary, but not everybody is going to dress as something creepy, anyway, so there's no big deal. This is perfect."

"Hell yeah it is!" Ginny spluttered, and I giggled as I twirled around in it, suddenly taking on the attitude of a seven year old. "Don't worry, Hermione - you'll have Malfoy on his knees begging you to be with him after one glance of you wearing that."

"Ginevra!" I hissed, halting in my tracks and slipping into the dressing room to undress. Nonetheless, the moment the door had blocked my face from her peripheral vision, my lips began to curve into a smile at the thought.

 

DRACO

Halloween was never my thing. Neither were parties nor costumes. My mother's social events individually could've been enough to last any upper-class person for a lifetime, let alone the dozens she'd forced me to attend in my youth. I'd gone off shrimp after having to stand there once for two hours serving them to snobby pure-bloods, and my hairline had receded ever so slightly from how tightly Mother had slicked it back at every party.

Naturally, though, my platinum locks still looked flawless, so I didn't have that much to complain about.

This year, was different, though. As I'd said to Hermione, the Yule Ball had merely been a necessary publicity stunt. The only form of entertainment I had elicited from it had been watching girls fawn over me and glare at Pansy (my incredibly eager date) from across the hall. Even that was only minor, though. At the most abhorrent of social events, I could tolerate anything as long as a large portion of attention was directed to me. I wasn't so bothered anymore, but in my youth, it was the goal I had in mind for the majority of my actions. 

The Yule Ball had been especially painful for me, though, as Hermione herself had, as I recalled, decided to have a temporary glow-up, and everyone was busy gaping at her all evening. I wasn't jealous. Why would I be jealous? Within the next twelve hours she'd gone back to being a Plain Jane - the Gryffindor geek who was good for nothing but gaining house points for her fellow lions. At least the attention I received was consistent, and lasted for longer than a bloody night. Besides, I was pretty sure I'd seen her sobbing on the staircase after a couple of hours anyway, so, sucks to be her.

No, I didn't think like that. That was harsh. That was the sort of thing old Draco would've snarled, but, as I loved to point out, I'd turned over a new leaf.

The dissimilar nature of this ball was that it had significance. It wasn't just a cover-up, or an opportunity to let loose a little bit. As Nott reminded me every time I so much as made eye contact with him, I had a bet to win. One that wasn't bound to end well.

I'd pondered over this for the entirety of the Hogsmeade journey we'd been allowed to go on, specifically to buy costumes. Perhaps that was the reason why, three hours later, I'd still managed to find myself costume-less, as I'd wasted so much time dwelling on my situation. Or maybe it was just because I though costumes were stupid and I never had anything in mind when I stepped foot in the village, anyway.

My thoughts were only disrupted by the sight of a certain trio lingering in a cosy store in the corner of the town, and I became slightly fidgety, as any normal person would if the girl they'd been thinking about a moment prior had just happened to be standing a few feet away. I hovered hesitantly outside of the shop for a moment - unsure of what it was I was hesitating to do - before my feet seemed to grow minds of their own as they carried me slowly between mannequins and clothing racks. 

Once I reached the exact location in which I'd seen them before, though, I came to an abrupt halt and my face dropped, as I contemplated turning straight back around. Hermione had apparently disappeared into the dressing rooms, leaving just Weasley and Lovegood behind. Now those weren't encounters I'd been looking forward to. I understood the concept of being more accepting, but, for me, accepting those two as my acquaintances (lest of all friends) would be the equivalent to doing the same for a mountain troll with Gilderoy Lockhart's ego and my father's long, blonde hair. 

I chuckled at the thought of my father as a mountain troll which attracted the attention of the two people I'd been hoping to leave alone. You know like I was just saying before that I craved attention? Yeah, I took that all back in a tenth of a second when my gaze met theirs.

"Malfoy." Weasley greeted, firmly albeit not coldly. Luna merely beamed and waved eagerly. "Fancy seeing you here. Thought your mummy would've hired a private tailor for her precious Drakey-Poo." When I could do nothing but stand and blink in mild annoyance at her (and confusion, because she'd been perfectly civil at the Quidditch after-party), she and the blonde simultaneously erupted into fits of giggles. My expression was funny, apparently. Weird. It hadn't meant to be. I'd have to check that out later, in the mirror. "I'm just kidding. We're friends now. It's cool."

"I wouldn't put it that way." I grimaced. I'd only just publicly began to label Hermione as my friend, and I wasn't about to do the same for her awfully irritating best friend. Well, I used that term lightly - I assumed Harry and Ron were still her best friends, but she was an efficient substitute, for the time being.

"Ah. shame. What are you doing here?"

"Uh.. costume shopping?" 

"Right, yeah. Have you bought anything, yet?"

I leaned against a bare (and hopefully stable) mannequin, rolling my eyes. "Absolutely. I just roam around dusty, musty, centuries-old stores for fun. It's a beloved hobby of mine." I drawled, earning a sigh from Ginny.

"Hermione's trying her costume, now. She's in there." She gestured vaguely over her shoulder, and I frowned. Why would she feel the need to point that out.

"Why should I care? It's just a pointless party." At Luna's more taken-aback and frankly kind of stern expression, I scoffed and shook my head. "Sorry. What's her costume, then?"

"It's not scary, which is pretty boring as that's mostly the purpose of Halloween. Mine's much cooler. But she's wearing the same outfit a movie character wore to a costume party, and she said it's one of her favourites. It's, uh, based on that Shakespeare play?"

The scene and the mention of the wizard (yes, believe it or not) who had written it both clicked in my brain like something had locked into place, and a small smirk flitted across my face. "Fantastic. And I'm sure she'll look, well, angelic." I stressed, choosing my words wisely.

"That's ironic, the costume is an angel."

Bingo.

"Ginny, I need-" called out a voice that emerged from behind a door that swung open just as I was about to retort, and Hermione Granger stepped out, fitting my compliment more snugly than I'd expected when I said it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

My plan was falling swiftly into action.

Saying that, I hadn't even had a plan before I'd seen the brunette in her costume just ten short minutes ago. I was in some random deserted coffee shop, now, sipping delicately on a latte for fear of burning my tongue. Simply wandering around Hogsmeade wouldn't be any good, now. I needed to rest so I could focus all of my energy on my plotting.

Besides, I didn't need to look for a costume, anymore. I suddenly knew what it'd be.

I knew exactly what play Ginny - oh god, I was using her first name too, what was I becoming - had been referring to, and, tragically, I'd seen the movie adaptation. It was the fault of my mother, and her scheme for us to seem more tolerant of the muggle world. She insisted that we... mingle with them for a few months, take week-long trips to muggle London every now and then. Though she was adamant that she just wanted to keep up our appearances, I was fully aware that her intention was also to put herself in their shoes as she still felt guilty about her chosen side in the battle.

The movie had been released just a little over two years prior, but due to the immense fame of the lead male role, it was still almost as popular as it had been then. It had been shown in a movie theatre, which Mother was always indignant about visiting as it was one of the most obvious forms of muggle culture. It was difficult to become instantly accustomed to the technology that was a 'screen', especially in a room full of muggles who had long since adjusted to it, but thankfully it was dark so nobody noticed the amazed look that'd crossed the faces of my mother and I.

Anywho, basically, that movie had been one of few that I actually enjoyed. Although I wasn't a fan of soppy romances, I had to admit that it was a little poetic. Things of that nature were my guilty pleasures.

Speaking of which... Hermione was another one of mine. And I knew it'd hurt her, to play with her feelings and betray her like that, but not if she'd never have any reason to believe that I did betray her.

So, we'd kiss (hypothetically, if I manage it). We'll have fun on the night, maybe it'll be a little awkward, maybe not, that's not important. I don't want to be like another Weasley and leave her crying on the staircase, so we'll leave it on a good note. The next day, I'll act... panicked. Paranoid. I'll set up this whole act of how it was the heat of the moment, and whilst I did think she was amazing, I wasn't ready. Little would she know that I'd never be 'ready'.

The kiss itself would be achieved easily, and that wasn't just my ego talking. I'd gotten the idea from her red-haired friend - she was going as the famous Juliet Capulet, of course, dressed in her angel costume from the scene in which she meets Romeo. Since I was the one going with her, though, I assumed she hadn't chosen to match with anybody else, which was where I stepped in. I show up dressed in the costume of Romeo himself, and declare that it was a pleasant coincidence, and, although she'd never been fond of Divination, a small segment of her would think that maybe it was fate. Then, maybe then, she'd be more welcoming of something like a kiss.

I mean, we'd hugged before, in the closet during Seven Minutes In Heaven. Hell, we'd spooned in my bed. I'd stayed up all night brewing a potion with her to ensure that she slept well. I'd been civil with her friends, even resorting to a first-name basis with them, almost, and I'd appreciated her company a lot when I fainted in class and she stayed by my bedside. I taught her to fly (almost) fearlessly, I sat alone with her in comfort in the rose garden she'd showed me, even gifting her one of them myself.

Then, it hit me like a bludger to Crabbe's face in our last Quidditch game. I wasn't desperate about trying to make Granger like me.

I liked Granger.

I'd come to that conclusion already. Just a few days ago, when it dawned on me that Pansy was right, that Hermione meant something to me. I doubted that there was a single pleasant memory from this year from which she was absent. It'd been two months, and, damn, she was already making me feel things.

Disgusting. If this was love, then I was sure as hell thankful that I'd never felt it until this point.

A surge of guilt suddenly washed over me at the realisation that I had to break her heart, like I'd been holding it back for the entire time that I'd been scheming. I didn't want to hurt her, but if it meant destroying me, Nott wouldn't hesitate to. 

If I could win this bet, though, maybe Theodore would be humiliated enough that he left her alone. For a while, at least. For long enough that I could win her trust so that, by the time he grew bitter and made an attempt to spill the details of our bet, she'd assume that he was lying out of spite and jealousy. 

My chest began to tighten and ache, as if a heavy force was pushing down on it. The entire ordeal had begun to stress me out, because I liked Hermione, really, I did. It was unfamiliar, and it'd taken me days to realise it, but I was certain of this strange new sensation I felt whenever she was around.

But I couldn't say anything about it. The war was over and my reputation wasn't buried as deeply in the dirt as it had been when it initially ended, due to my mother's successful remedies and my father's refusal to ever be interviewed by newspapers, after our convincing. We knew how it'd turn out, in the end. On the other hand, though, her friends still loathed me, my family would whisper disapprovingly about her behind closed doors and if we were ever to be in a relationship, it'd be so bizarre that we'd never be left alone by the media. 

I scowled. My latte was cold. I'd been debating internally with myself for too long, and outside, I saw that students were beginning to drift back in the direction of the castle. I checked the clock on the wall. I had twenty minutes to buy a costume, and I'd yet to discover where I could even buy one. The store I'd found Hermione in seemed promising enough, so I went in that direction. 

Fifteen minutes later, I emerged holding a bag that contained the knight costume I'd sought out. It wasn't quite like the one from the movie, but it was adequate, and I was more than satisfied with my purchase. Ginny was right - once upon a time, I would've demanded that an exact replica of the costume be created for me.

Once upon a time, though, I hadn't liked Hermione Granger.

Speak of the devil. I rounded the corner to see the trio resting at Madam Puddifoot's, apparently having bought their outfits already. The two shorter girls were laughing at something the taller blonde one had said, and I caught a flash of glee in the depths of the two particular caramel eyes I'd been looking for. Her gaze met mine, and I froze momentarily, grip loosening around my bag. The paranoia from my earlier thoughts came rushing back, and, somehow, I thought that maybe she knew about the bet.

I exhaled in relief, however, when she beamed and beckoned me over, gesturing to an empty chair between her and...

"Blaise?" I asked incredulously, eyebrow raised. "You said you couldn't make it."

"Aha, well..." He cleared his throat nervously, dark eyes meeting mine. "Sorry, Draco. I won't lie to you, I've been with Ginny most of the time. We're just starting to explore things, you know, I wanted to get to know her better."

"You're just exploring things? I thought you would've explored enough in that closet, already." The Italian was sitting close enough to reach out and kick me in the shin, and I winced, but kept my cool. I wasn't the sort to make a fool out of myself in public. My parents had taught me grace from an early age, and it actually came to use in situations like these.

'These' meaning the times when my closest friend decided that it was alright to attack me for little to no reason.

"I was kidding! Calm down, Zabini." I took the seat Hermione had gestured to and shot her a half-smile, earning one back. I think I might've melted a little. "He didn't deny it, though." I whispered in her ear, leaning towards her to prevent him from hearing.

"Oi! What was that?" He demanded, clearly getting flustered. I chuckled at his discomfort, shaking my head and brushing him off as he sulked beside Ginny, who was giggling herself.

"Draco! Did you find a costume yet?" Luna asked breezily, and I nodded, gesturing to my bag.

"Mhm. It's in here."

"Ooh, can I see?" Hermione pleaded, inching closer in an unsuccessful attempt to catch a glimpse. I winced, afraid that she might see even a flash of the silver metal, but she hadn't seemed to have seen anything when I pushed it underneath my chair.

"No, you can't. You'll have to wait and see until Halloween."

"But you saw my costume!"

I smiled. "I know."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

HERMIONE

It had to be about ten minutes later that we all rose from our seats at long last and made the wise decision to head back to Hogwarts (though purely because I'd been whining that we were breaking a very specific rule plus I was Head Girl, which Draco always shot down with his own title). I hadn't given up in my efforts to sneak a glance at the contents of the blond's bag, but he was somehow always one large step ahead of me, and buy the time I did something as little as tilt my head over, he hid it behind his back and tutted.

I always favoured walking back from Hogsmeade whenever there was a fresh carpet of snow on the ground, because the sound of it crunching underfoot was always extraordinarily satisfying to me. Autumn was a close second, though - the myriads of warm-hued leaves made a similar noise, and I'd even gotten a kick out of kicking mountainous piles at Draco in retaliation to him refusing to share his costume with me. He never seemed to mind, though - just casually brushed himself down and shook his head at me, a small smile playing on his lips each time. Either he found it amusing, or he was plotting his revenge.

The mischievous part of me prayed that it was the latter.

Ginny and Blaise had seemed to stop caring completely about what other people might think about their budding romance, as they were walking a few feet away, shuffling through piles of leaves whilst linking arms and laughing at some private joke. Neville had met back up with Luna (he'd lost his toad again and had been off finding him) and the two of them were a little way behind, leaving Draco and I stuck in the middle.

I wasn't sure whether to mind or not - since the conclusion I'd come to several days ago, I was never certain whether I craved his company or I wanted to stay away for fear of accidentally embarrassing myself. I was still unsure of how intense my feelings towards Draco Malfoy were, so I supposed that it'd help to spend time with him.

"You're quiet." He stated abruptly after a few moments of silence, and my thoughts evaporated, leaving only him. I glanced up briefly and shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "That's unlike you. You rarely shut up."

"I have a lot on my mind." I responded vaguely in an attempt to dismiss him, but being the typical Slytherin he was, he pushed further.

"Sounds ominous. What's wrong?" His face fell and he cleared his throat before lowering his voice to a whisper to avoid alerting the other four. "Are you, uh.. sleeping well?"

"What?" I blurted bluntly, confused by his apparent concern. "No, I have plenty of the potion left. Why, you worried about me or something?"

"Me? Worried about you? Ha. Never. You wish." Every additional sentence seemed to be added as an afterthought, rolling off his tongue almost uncontrollably, and I cocked an eyebrow at his jittery response.

"What is it? Has it stopped working for you?"

"Who's worried now?" He bit back with a smirk, and I rolled my eyes. "No, Princess, I'm sleeping perfectly fine. I've even gone without it for a couple of nights, so if you ever need some spare-"

"I'll be sure to ask anybody but you." I finished for him. He looked at me blankly.

"That was rather rude."

"Aw, did I hurt your feelings?"

"No." he paused, dipping downwards for a moment as I watched in confusion. "But I'm about to hurt yours. Think fast!" And, before I'd gotten the memo, he scooped up a handful of leaves and threw them at me, a couple catching in my hair. I thanked my lucky stars that they were crisp, not damp.

"Oh, you- ferret!" I growled, grabbing a fistful myself and hurtling the clump towards him. With a yelp, he dodged it, laughing despite the near-miss. "You'd better pray for the safety of your perfect hair, Malfoy, because it's about to be ruined."

"Thanks for calling my hair perfect." He retorted smugly, and I twitched nervously, hoping that he'd understood that my purpose was to mock him rather than compliment him.

"Could your ego be any bigger?" I scoffed, throwing another makeshift ball of leaves at him, colliding with his shoulder this time. 

"Hm... apparently not." He responded thoughtfully as he tapped a finger on his chin, before throwing another cluster of leaves at me, watching me squeal as the parts all separated in mid-air and fluttered down to land on my head.

"Ugh, I look a mess, Malfoy!" I hissed, charging at him in a feeble attempt to tackle him to the ground, where an oversized pile was lying in wait. He remained upright with little struggle, and, to my dismay, it was me who collapsed into the pile, but my grip on his arm dragged him down with me, and we were quickly submerged in the maroon mountain. "We're both going to be filthy, after this."

"Uh.. Hermione?" Came an uncertain mutter from Ginny, and I struggled to stand upright to face her, Draco quickly following suit.

"Yeah, Ginny?"

"Hermione?" Came a deeper voice, and my head snapped up.

"Harry?"

"Potter!"

"Draco!"

"Did you just call him Draco?"

"Hermione?"

I froze on the spot, slowly brushing off the debris that'd gathered and knotted in my hair. Draco took an instinctive step away from me, and I felt a light pang in my heart, but I ignored that, for the time being. Ginny's eyes flew to mine, which were wide in astonishment, as I glanced frantically between the boy with the raven hair and emerald eyes, and-

"Ron?"


End file.
